


Lights, Camera, Action

by shipsandglitter



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Actor!Cyrus and Actor!TJ, Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Idiots in Love, LGBT Themes, Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, On-screen romance, See summary for trigger warnings, Set predominantly in L.A., They're both relatively high-profile actors, When I say slowburn I MEAN slowburn kids, alternative universe, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2020-07-27 22:24:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 78,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20053504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipsandglitter/pseuds/shipsandglitter
Summary: Cyrus Goodman and TJ Kippen are two rival actors that always seem to find themselves competing for the same roles. On a hot July day like any other, they discover that their agents have landed them both supporting roles in an L.A. based action movie, but instead of competing for the same role, they now find themselves playing each other's love interests. With a shared past they're both trying to grow from, things get a little complicated when feelings enter the mix.Hey, it's only 6 months. Right?[TW: mentions and depictions of alcoholism, neglectful parents, fighting between parents, (past) underage drug-taking, thoughts associated with anxiety. Trigger warnings will be mentioned before each chapter, you can message me on tumblr (@heart-eyes-kippen) if you have any specific concerns.]





	1. A One-Way Ticket (prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, welcome to another chaptered fic! I'll be updating this one about once or twice a week, I hope you guys like it <3
> 
> [TWs for this chapter: mentions of alcoholism and neglectful parents]

* * *

_ July 10th, 2014 _

It was eerily silent on his street. Eerily silent in his house. Eerily silent in his room, even. 

Cyrus’ footfalls, low and purposeful, sounded against the creaking wooden floorboards of his hallway. He stepped out into the living room. Everything was in disarray, as if a raging storm had swept by and misplaced ornaments from their stands, books from their shelves, and dust from where it had gathered in varying crevices. The smell of bitter whiskey flooded his senses, and despite how normal that harshness had become for him a wince appeared on his face. 

There was his mom amongst the chaos, passed out, her long dark hair shielding her face from view. 

He thought about what this house had once been, thought about her infectious laughter, the way the corners of her eyes would crinkle when she used to smile, and the dull ache in his chest suddenly seemed too heavy. Like he wouldn’t be able to walk another step without feeling it’s weight pressing insistently down on his shoulders.

He swallowed hard before continuing on like he knew he had to, approaching her cautiously. His throat felt tight all of a sudden, and despite how miserable the past few years had been he wanted nothing more than to throw all of his plans out the window and stay.

It was his birthday that day. His eighteenth. He had waited all day to see if she’d realise it, but the words he wanted never came, and he stopped hoping for them. He knew she cared deep down, but he also knew that staying in this place was one of the worst things he could possibly do for himself, so he forced his eyes shut and took in a deep breath, before leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to her hair.

He had said goodbye to her last night. She’d cried until tears couldn’t fall anymore, and all that was left were dry, heaving sobs that filled his house for a majority of the night. He let out a shaky exhale as he made his way to the kitchen, feeling around in the darkness for a marker of some kind. He found one in a bottom drawer, and he fumblingly popped the lid off before writing a note to place beside the last grocery haul he’d ever collect in this place, telling her to use it for dinner that night. 

Shadows danced around the corners of his house, barely kept at bay by the dim lamps he’d turned on only hours prior. Adrenaline began to surge through his veins as he walked back to his old room. 

Amongst the darkness, his pale bed covers looked a deep blue, like an ocean at nighttime. He grazed his fingertips along the cool surface of his desk as he approached the suitcase that lay in the centre of it all. It looked imposing there; bright red in comparison to the faded blues that filled his room, and for a moment he just stared.

These were all the things he’d be taking from this place. 

Sadness crashed down on him all at once, like ocean waves crashed down against a sandy shore, and without flicking on the lights he moved forward and grabbed onto the handle of his suitcase. His shuddering breaths and hurried footsteps cut jarringly through the silence as he entered the living room again. His room was filled to the brim with memories he’d rather forget after all, and lingering there any longer wouldn’t make this any less hard. 

The front door creaked slightly upon opening, and shadows shrank away from the light as it poured out onto the porch. A pleasant evening breeze gusted by him, blowing up his coat, as he approached the small car that was parked right by his driveway.

Cyrus paused where his front garden met the pavement, the dying grass a sorry reflection of what the house had become, before swallowing down the lump in his throat and pressing on. 

He opened the back car door, offering both girls an apologetic smile as he offloaded his suitcase into the back seat. 

“Mind if I make a call before we go?” he asked. 

“Go ahead,” Buffy nodded, and seeing the way fear contorted her features as she sat there, fingers drumming against the steering wheel, was nearly enough to send Cyrus’ emotions tumbling over the edge. 

Buffy Driscoll was hardly everfearful in anything she did, and the reality of what they were doing hit him like a pile of bricks as he closed the car door again, shakily pulling his phone from his pocket and scrolling down through his contacts.

Stars burned amongst the pitch-black sky, and another gusting onset of wind had Cyrus shivering as he held the receiver to his ear. 

_ One ring. _

_ Two rings. _

_ Three rings. _

Then-

“Hello?” 

He let out a sigh of relief. 

“Iris,” he managed, realising he had barely rehearsed what he wanted to tell the girl. Her voice was heavy with sleep, but somehow clouded with confusion too. 

“Why are you calling me?” 

Cyrus let out a breath. He probably deserved that. In fact - he probably deserved anything _but _the unwavering kindness she’d shown him over the past few months.

“I um...I just thought I’d let you know that I’m leaving town.” 

A pause. Then-

“Where to?” 

“L.A.,” he answered, voice somewhat sheepish now. Saying it aloud made their plans seem almost painfully cliche. 

Iris, kind as she always was, didn’t even bat an eye. From what he could hear, anyway. 

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, then.”

“Me too,” Cyrus answered truthfully, huffing out a laugh. 

He directed his gaze up to the night sky, then to the car parked beside him, thinking up a way he could communicate what he wanted to. He’d like to think he was a relatively expressive person, but when he opened his mouth to speak, the words just didn’t come. 

He heard a heavy sigh on the other end, crackling slightly due to the lack of signal.

“Cyrus, are you calling me to apologise?” 

He brought a hand up to his hair then, running his shaky fingers through it. He turned away from the car, as though that would somehow prevent the call from reaching Andi or Buffy. 

“Yeah. I am. And, before you say it’s fine, I - I know you think that, okay? But, it isn’t fine. I was a terrible boyfriend, and...I’m sorry for wasting your time. I really, really hope you find someone who treats you right because you’re genuinely one of the kindest people I’ve met.”

He heard a shuddering intake of breath, and his heart sank with the realisation that Iris was crying now. 

_ God - could he do anything right? _

“Cyrus...I know it wasn’t ideal, but I had fun with you. It’s not your fault that you’re...” she paused, as though unsure if he was comfortable yet with the word, “please don’t beat yourself up, just...focus on L.A., okay? Find someone nice. I’ll be fine.” 

Cyrus felt relief flood his system at those words. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and looked up towards the sky again, trying hard to keep any tears from slipping down his face. 

He let out a breath. “Thanks, Iris. I have to go now, but...”

She laughed slightly. “It’s been fun?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, a smile tugging at his lips, “it has.”

Iris’ voice sounded amused despite her tears when she spoke again, and the sound had Cyrus’ smile widening ever so slightly. He really _did _love her, in every way except the way in which it counted.

“Bye, Cyrus.” 

“Bye, Iris.” 

Then, there was silence. 

Cyrus glanced around at his surroundings one more time, double-taking when he saw a distant figure standing right where the darkness seemed to obscure everything from view. He knew who it was - of course he did. The cigarette that was tossed to the ground, burning orange, was evidence enough. He just didn’t exactly know what TJ Kippen was doing out alone at this time of night, watching someone he’d hardly, if ever, spoken to throughout their time at school together.

He turned away and walked around to the side of the car, pulling open the back door and settling in beside his suitcase.

“Ready?” Andi asked him, smiling over at him from the passenger’s seat. 

“Ready,” he confirmed, and soon enough they were driving away from the small town they’d called home all these years, swallowed up by the night’s darkness.

As they passed the park that sat right by the edge of town, a bitter taste filled his mouth. 

His first kiss with a boy had taken place amongst that rusted play equipment. Then, soon after, his first heartbreak had occurred there too upon discovering that it was just a guy trying to confirm whether he was ‘really gay’ so he could broadcast it to the whole school like the gossip he seemed to think it was. 

He tried to rid himself of these thoughts, as they only served to intensify the sadness swelling up inside of him. He had to look ahead now. 

There were opportunities in L.A. for all of them, after all. Buffy, who wanted to study sports psychology, Andi, who wanted to continue her studies in art, and Cyrus, who’d been accepted to a school of drama on the outskirts of the city. 

After speaking with his dad, he’d agreed to rent out a small apartment near his school for the three of them. Despite knowing that he was likely doing this out of guilt, having left him and his mom alone after they’d divorced, he was grateful nonetheless. They’d both known deep down that Cyrus would want to escape one day, and his dad hadn’t been overly surprised when he’d come to him with the request. 

Cyrus looked absent-mindedly towards the driver’s seat then, where Buffy’s fingers were still drumming away at the steering wheel, and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh. He knew change was something that’d always frightened her, even if she never admitted to it.

He supposed though that everyone had a fear they kept concealed from other people at all costs, so he never asked about it. 

After years of feeling like his life was one big roller coaster he couldn’t control, Cyrus Goodman’s biggest fear happened to be falling. It almost seemed ironic that the very thing he was doing at that moment was plunging himself right into the unknown.


	2. Cigarette Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJ recieves some news from his agent. He has a call with Marty, and a conversation with Amber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here's chapter one, slightly earlier than I was intended bc I'm excitedddd <3
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter: mentions of fighting parents, cigarette smoking

* * *

_July 10th, 2019 _

The unforgiving summer sun beamed down on TJ as he walked, burning brilliantly against the clear blue sky. Everything seemed to travel by in a haze, and vaguely, his fuzzy brain was able to conjure up the thought that he really wouldn’t mind going into hibernation for the next few days to avoid the heat. It was only a few degrees higher than normal, but to a town of people who had become accustomed to temperate conditions this was practically the end of the world. 

He pulled at the neck of his shirt as he approached the single-story building, large windows allowing the afternoon sunlight to pour inside. Two glass doors parted as he walked forward, allowing him inside.

White tiles spanned the main lobby, and various fake potted plants were pushed up into corners, bright greens standing out amongst the otherwise sterile-looking space. 

A glance down at his watch confirmed he was about five minutes or so late, so he hurried over to his usual meeting room, marked by the number 2, and knocked gently.

“Come in!” 

TJ pushed the door open, a not-so-apologetic smile on his lips as he closed it behind him again with a thud and took the seat opposite his agent. The small office was sparsely decorated as always, and a spotless black desk separated the pair as Mr Banks (or Adam, as TJ had taken to calling him) straightened out a stack of papers. 

He levelled him with a glare, but TJ could tell from the way his eyebrows were raised there was no intended heat behind it. A fan was on full-blast in the corner of the room, directing cool air towards the wall, and TJ couldn’t help but let his gaze travel down to the shirt Adam was wearing. 

“Seems a bit casual for you,” he said playfully, nodding his head toward it. 

“Forgive me for the unprofessionalism,” came the amused response, “but I know my limits and there’s no way in hell I’m wearing a suit on a day like this.“

TJ leaned back against his seat at that, crossing one leg over the other. Adam has seemed particularly enthusiastic during his phone call yesterday, which was rare given his affinity for sarcasm. He was almost as fluent in sarcasm as he was in negotiating talk, and his unparalleled ability to put on an act sometimes had TJ wondering whether he should quit his agent work and audition for the next Hollywood blockbuster. 

“So what’s the big news?” he asked, cutting to the chase, “and _why_ couldn't it have waited until walking outside _isn’t _the equivalent of walking into a fire?” 

Adam set his papers down on the desk, professional demeanour falling almost instantly into place. He pressed a button on the remote sat beside him on the desk, and TJ’s eyebrows shot up as the blinds behind them lowered down with a slight rumble, blocking the light outside from entering. 

“Since when is that a thing?” he asked.

“Since I had it installed yesterday,” Adam said simply, “but that doesn’t matter. I have to warn you about this news, TJ, because I’m not interested in being murdered today.” 

TJ blinked at him for a moment, not exactly expecting those words. What could possibly be such a big deal that he’d want to resort to murder? His eyes darted from Adam to the papers that were piled up in front of him, the beginnings of an amused smile threatening to appear on his face. 

“Is this about a role?” 

Adam nodded, and TJ’s mind began reeling with a whole array of different things Adam could be moments away from telling him every single scenario he thought up seemed to be more unreasonable than the last. 

“Promise you won’t faint when I tell you? I don’t fancy a trip to the hospital today.”

TJ couldn’t help the smile playing at his lips. The British accent Adam had carried with him all these years only served to make him sound _more _unimpressed than he actually was_. _If that was even possible. 

“Just tell me,” he groaned, “I’ll try not to do anything drastic.” 

Adam nodded, an eyebrow raised slightly. “Okay, then. I’ve managed to land you a pretty big role, being the best agent in the world and all that. No auditioning required. Decent pay. It’s an action movie that’s being shot in L.A. called ‘Down to Ashes.’”

TJ’s mouth very nearly fell open at those words. It was relatively rare for him to get a part he didn’t have to audition for, but to get a part like that in what seemed to be a relatively big production? A slow smile began to spread across his face. He had no idea how that could be bad news in any universe.

“Are you kidding? That’s great! Why would I wanna murder you over that?” 

It was Adam’s turn to smile now, and TJ felt his stomach drop ever so slightly as he looked back at him, trying to decipher on on _earth _was going on in his head. As if he didn’t wonder that enough, already. 

“There’s a catch,” said Adam, clearly eager to drag things out, and TJ let out an exasperated sigh. 

“What kind of catch?” 

Neither of them spoke for a moment after that. TJ wracked his brain, thinking up possible explanations, and the realisation that swept over his face had Adam laughing to himself.

“I swear, if this has _anything _whatsoever to do with Cyrus Goodman, then _so _help me.“

Adam’s smile quickly turned into a grin. He knew TJ’s frustrations towards the other actor very well, and that fact in itself had an uneasy pit forming in his stomach. He seemed to be acting differently about Cyrus this time - instead of calmly informing TJ that he would be auditioning for the same part as him, he was dragging this out as though trying to build up anticipation. 

TJ narrowed his eyes sceptically, folding his arms tightly over his chest. “Tell me.” 

Finally, Adam gave in with a short laugh. “TJ. You’re not competing for the same role as each other this time.” 

_What the hell was that supposed to mean?_

“So he’s not auditioning, then?” 

“No, that’s not what I...” he paused for a moment, shaking his head. “You two are playing the main supporting roles,” said Adam, eyes glinting with playfulness as he slid one of the papers over.

TJ’s eyes widened at that, and for a lingering moment, all he could do was open his mouth pathetically before closing it again. Sure, he’d subtweeted Cyrus a few times, and they’d had the occasional exchange on twitter, but beyond that TJ could confidently say he had no intention whatsoever of working alongside him. 

“You’re making me star in a movie with the annoying guy that seems hellbent on stealing all my roles?” he groaned dramatically, lowering his head to the table with a soft thud. The desk was surprisingly cool against his skin, so he ended up remaining like that for a moment before raising his head again, gaze accusaory as it met Adam’s.

The man just laughed airily, dismissing the words with a wave of his hand. “I think it’ll be good for you. Maybe he’ll be the motivation you need to actually remember your lines.”

“Ha,” he remarked, drily. “If I start learning my lines at appropriate times it definitely _won’t _be because of Cyrus damn Goodman.”

Adam carefully lifted a small stack of paper from the top of his pile, reaching out to grab a stapler as he regarded TJ. 

“I suppose there’s something else you should know too. You guys are playing each other’s love interests.” 

With how quickly Adam had followed his first statement with the second, those words had almost felt like equivalent to ripping off a band-aid. Once again, TJ found himself opening and closing his mouth like a startled fish.

“Well,” he managed after a few long moments, exaggerating a sugary-sweet smile, “I don’t have any murderous urges, but I definitely have the urge to turn that fan around so it blows your papers everywhere.”

“You wouldn’t,” Adam gasped, and TJ just rolled his eyes. 

The good thing was that he would be going to L.A. - he always found himself missing the city, bustling crowds and all. The bad thing was that he’d have to pretend to be in love with Cyrus Goodman. Or - in love with his character that is, but his face happened to be attached to that character. There was no way that TJ was refusing the offer either though, so he forcibly pushed any thoughts he had about Cyrus to the back of his mind and met Adam’s gaze again, face determined now. 

“So, are you in?” 

TJ nodded. “Like I’d say no to an opportunity to upstage that guy. Also, I’m pretty sure people would go crazy over this if they found out, and I’m not exactly opposed to that either.” 

“Great!” said Adam, all business again as he began flicking through his papers. “I’m gonna need you to fill in some things, though.”

“Favourite part of the job,” TJ grinned back, which had Adam shaking his head in amusement as he began placing more papers down in front of him. 

_He’d played love-interests plenty of times, _TJ reminded himself as they began going through forms. Pretending to fall in love with other people wasn’t a new thing by any means. So why did Cyrus Goodman have to be any different? 

This was the thought he maintained in his head on the drive home, the air conditioner blasting at its highest setting. It was early afternoon, with the sun still high up in the sky, and TJ had planned on running an errand or two. Looking back at the papers he had piled up in the backseat however, he decided he’d just call it a day and focus on learning what he could about the movie he was shooting, as well as figuring out if he could stay with anyone in L.A. before accepting the hotel room Adam had offered him. 

The streets were quiet, as if the heat had lulled the town into a gentle sleep, and the roads that usually had at least some congestion seemed almost fully clear as he headed towards his shared apartment. It was a quaint-looking thing on the outskirts of town that he and Amber had managed to score not long after they’d turned 18. It made sense at the time, and it still did, but he’d be lying if he said that remaining in this town wasn’t a hindrance to his career at the best of times. 

The air felt thick with heat as he stepped out, taking a moment to adjust to the sudden temperature change. Despite looking cute with its red brick and it’s well-kept garden (courtesy of Amber), their house didn’t exactly have the best insulation, or windows that opened, so walking in through the front door wasn’t exactly a relief. 

TJ pulled his shirt over his head as he passed by his room and tossed it onto his bed, headed straight towards the bathroom for a shower. He winced slightly as he entered, noticing the cracks in the tiles that seemed to get more severe each time he checked. Making a mental note to look into someone that could fix it for them, he stepped into the shower and, like the crazy person Amber always told him he was, turned on the cold tap. 

Ten minutes later, he felt somewhat more refreshed as he changed into a faded pair of basketball shorts and a sleeveless pink shirt he’d stolen from Amber at some point, settling down on the couch with the papers Adam had given him. 

With a soft meow, Chérie jumped up onto the couch beside him and soft paws sank down into the cushions as she made her way over to him. He couldn’t help but grin, holding out an arm so that she could curl up underneath it. 

Then, he allowed his gaze to return to the character descriptions he’d been reading. Adam had given him one for Cyrus’ character (Miles) and his character (Noah.) 

** _Miles_****, ** _good-natured, with a willingness to help others despite his clumsiness. Finds excitement in small things that others may not notice. Whilst not necessarily possessing an abundance of physical strength, has mastered the art of pick-pocketing. _

** _Noah, _ ** _presents as stoic, often relying on physicality rather than words, but kind-hearted to those he cares about. Often depends upon sarcasm and dark humour to deflect_

“Huh,” he nodded, glancing down at the black and white cat curled up against him, “kind of sounds like me, hey? Except maybe without that ‘stoic’ part. And without the physicality part too...okay, maybe it doesn’t sound like me.”

Chérie briefly opened her eyes to look up him, her little face somehow looking unimpressed, and TJ laughed.

“Fine, I’ll shut up.” 

Sitting there on that couch, with sunlight pouring in through the windows and gently warming the cushions beside him, the realisation of what exactly he was getting himself into hit him all at once. An uneasy pit began to form in his stomach as he thought back to the person he once was, to the person Cyrus probably _still _thought he was. He understood why, of course he did, but after spending so much time carefully rebuilding himself he’d prefer not to have those bricks come crashing down the moment he looked at Cyrus. Seeing him through a screen was one thing after all, but in real life? For six whole _months?_

He’d given up a lot of things since living with Amber. Alcohol. Parties. His friends, as well as the random pills they always presented him with. And, well...he was working on the cigarettes. Just thinking about them almost made him want to grab the pack he’d left on the counter and allow the warm smoke to seep into his lungs, his clothes, his thoughts. Everything. He’d come to enjoy the lightheadedness that smoke would bring with it, and even now it still felt like a comforting old friend he could visit in the dark of night when things became too much.

He allowed these thoughts to swirl around in his head for a moment, much like the smoke he so desperately craved, before pushing them away again. For now, anyway. 

A few more minutes of skimming went by, then TJ was giving Chérie an apologetic pat on the head as he pulled his phone from his pocket, opening up his contacts. He had to scroll for a moment or two before he found him, tapping on his name.

TJ couldn’t help but laugh slightly at how quickly his voice flooded the room - Marty seriously had his phone on him at all times of the day. 

“TJ!“

He placed his papers on the dark coffee table in front of him with an amused smile. 

“Marty! How are things?”

Some shuffling came from the other end of the line that sounded strangely like static, before Marty’s voice returned again, clearer now.

“Great! How are things in ghost town?”

TJ snorted. “Things are good here, but it’s hot as hell. By _our _standards that is, before you get all ‘you think _that’s _hot?’ on me.” 

He could practically _hear_ Marty's grin. 

“Well, I’m saying it anyway and you can’t stop me, it’s like _ten _whole degrees hotter in L.A. than it is over there, you wimp.“ 

“Okay, let’s get you over here during winter then!” said TJ, startling Chérie slightly. He gave her an apologetic look and began running his hand down her back in attempt to soothe her.

“I’ve literally _lived _there during winter!” came Marty’s incredulous response.

“Touché,” he admitted, sighing slightly. 

Marty let out a soft laugh. “Is that Chérie purring in the background or am I going crazy?” 

“It’s her,” TJ confirmed, giving the cat a fond look, “she has a habit of purring so loud it sounds like a mini engine.” 

“I miss her,” Marty sighed, and TJ‘s smile softened. He was just 19 when his friend had moved to L.A. Despite seeing him on occasion, after being inseparable for so long he still felt his missing presence wherever he went, like a lingering heaviness in the air that never seemed to go away. There was just something about Marty’s infectious laugh that couldn’t be replaced. 

“She misses you too,” he promised, after a moment’s delay.

Silence fell for a second or two. TJ tried to fill his tone with enthusiasm when he spoke up again, as if compensating for the moment of sadness.

“Anyway! I was actually kind of, maybe calling to ask a small favour. Well - it’s kind of a big favour.” 

“Hit me,” Marty responded, the smile obvious in his voice now. 

“Well, I just had a meeting with Adam and found out he’s landed me a role in an action movie being shot in L.A. I looked up the location and it’s not too far from your place-“

Before he could continue, Marty was interrupting him with a laugh.

“Of course you can stay here, dude! When do they start shooting?” 

A grin spread across TJ’s face. “In a month’s time, I’m pretty sure. The flights have already been paid for.” 

They spoke for a few more minutes, excitedly exchanging ideas about all the things they could get up to together while TJ was over there. He really did miss Marty, more than he’d ever admit, and knowing he’d be there during this shoot somehow made everything about it seem more bearable. He felt lighter at that moment than he had in a long time, and for once the ever-present urge to turn to his cigarettes faded completely.

“Oh my god, Marty! I totally forgot to tell you this and it may or may not be confidential but I don’t care. Cyrus Goodman is acting in this movie too, and I’m playing his literal _love interest_.” 

Marty snorted at that, before bursting into laughter. “_You? You’re _playing his love interest of all people? Okay, now that’s a good business move. I mean - who wouldn’t wanna see that?”

TJ shook his head, still running his hands softly along Chérie’s fur as he watched the sky outside. 

“I’ll be testing my acting abilities with this for one for sure,” he mused, and Marty just laughed again.

“Oh come on, he doesn’t seem like a bad guy.”

“I never said he was,” TJ defended, “but he’s cost me an unforgivable amount of money at this point.” 

“You’ve probably cost him a lot of money too,” Marty pointed out, amusement lacing his tone.

“That’s true,” TJ admitted with an airy laugh. “I guess we’ll just see how it goes.”

~ 

TJ watched as the smoke he exhaled swirled up into the cool evening air, fading away almost as soon as it had appeared. He placed one hand down on the cool concrete beneath him, looking out at their darkened driveway. Streetlamps illuminated the road beyond it, and the soft sounds of chirping crickets filled the silence that had settled around their house. Being summer, the gusting bouts of wind weren’t overly cold as they passed by him, rustling the varying plants that filled their garden. 

He heard the door creak open hesitantly, and suddenly there was warm light flooding the porch where he sat. Feeling exposed, he lowered his cigarette and watched as Amber stepped out, purple nightgown blowing slightly in the wind. His heart sank ever so slightly as her gaze travelled from him, to the cigarette in his hand, then back to him again. It was subtle, but he noticed her face fall with disappointment. 

She lingered there a moment longer, before sighing and settling down on the concrete beside him. TJ swallowed, a bitter feeling rising up in his throat as he squished the cigarette and placed it gingerly in the ashtray beside him. 

“Stressed?” Amber asked eventually, not meeting his eye. 

He just shrugged his shoulders, feeling a wave of sudden dizziness wash over him. “Dad called.” 

A brief wince crossed her face. TJ let out a sigh as he looked over the cigarette he left unfinished, regret coiling up inside of him. It surprised him, even after all these years, how fast his dad was able to sour his mood. All it took now was one measly phone call, and suddenly it was like he'd been transported to their childhood home, that same fear clawing away at his throat.

“What’d he say?” she asked, voice gentle. 

“The usual,” he responded with a bitter laugh, “about ten different questions about when I’m getting a girlfriend. Didn’t ask for any money this time though.”

Amber nodded, and for a moment neither of them spoke. There was a reason they didn’t usually mention their dad, after all. His constant arguments with their mom had left them both with a heaviness on their shoulders they were constantly trying to rid themselves of. It was better now that they had only each other, but any reminder of their old house had a bitter taste appearing in his mouth. He could only assume it was the same for Amber, too. 

“Amber, I...” he paused for a moment, throat feeling tight all of a sudden, “I think he knows. Deep down, at least. I don’t know why he’d be asking this much, otherwise.” 

She moved closer to him then, resting her head on his shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 

TJ wrapped an arm around her, shaking his head slightly. That was the problem. He _didn’t _know, and every phone call with his dad felt like it’d finally be the one where he loses it and asks him about it.

“But what if he does? I know it’s stupid, I mean, I’m literally an adult now, but I really _don’t _want him to know. He just...can’t.”

He felt, rather than saw, Amber shake her head. A particularly strong gust of wind had TJ shivering slightly, drawing her in closer. He felt sick all of a sudden, thinking about what his dad would say if he found out. They lived in the same small town after all, so there was no way they wouldn’t cross paths at some point. There wouldn’t be much he could do to escape his dad’s burning looks of disapproval.

“It’s not stupid. But...you can’t keep thinking about that, okay? He can’t read your mind, and he’ll never know for sure unless you decide to tell him. Which I wouldn’t recommend.” 

TJ just nodded at that, unable to find the words to respond. She was right, after all. He knew that deep down. 

It was almost midnight by the time TJ collapsed down onto his bed, covers drawn up to his waist as he began scrolling through his phone. Moonlight filtered in through his blinds, illuminating the small bookshelf by his desk in strips. The white pages of his books almost seemed silvery underneath it.

He stopped his mindless scrolling when he saw something that Cyrus had tweeted, just minutes prior. It was obscure, and to the average person it probably didn’t mean much, but it had TJ laughing softly to himself. 

_guys i received the worst news of my life today. ON MY BIRTHDAY!!!!! _

Knowing that it was likely Cyrus had received the same news as him that day, he smiled and decided to quote the tweet. 

_quit being dramatic and go back to bed :) _

He didn’t think much of the response as he rolled over in attempt to actually get some sleep, until a few minutes later his phone was vibrating with a notification. He switched it to silent, not appreciating the near heart attack it had given him, before opening twitter again. 

_quit telling me what to do and go back to bed :) _

Then, he received a DM, and another small smile appeared on his lips as he read over it. Light emanated from the screen, illuminating his face amongst the darkness as he sat up against the headboard.

** _certified disaster: _ ** _you know about ‘down to ashes’ right??? _

** _teej<3: _ ** _well hello to you too. and yeah, i do _

** _certified disaster: _ ** _HELLO. okay, so you know our characters end up dating?? _

** _teej<3: _ ** _yeah, unfortunately :// no idea how i’m gonna survive but oh well _

** _certified disaster: _ ** _the feeling is mutual, theo james kippen _

** _teej<3: _ ** _if you call me that irl i might have to kill you _

** _certified disaster: _ ** _:))_

TJ was still smiling slightly as he set his phone back down, manoeuvring himself into a lying position. 

Somehow, that exchange had been what he needed to get his dad off his mind, and that night he fell into a peaceful sleep rather than a restless one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was okay!! Kudos/comments are appreciated if you liked this so far as always <33


	3. A Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus arrives at his hotel. TJ has a proposal when they meet on set. Cyrus gets a welcome visitor after his first day of shooting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I was sort of hit with motivation to write this all of a sudden so here it is! I hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> Dedicating this chapter to Smriti (green-lemonboys on tumblr) bc I love her endlessly <33
> 
> [No trigger warnings for this chapter]

_ August 9th, 2019 _

Cyrus wished more than anything that he could say he had TJ Kippen all figured out. He wished that he could explain how TJ had gone from watching his days go by in a haze of parties and cigarette smoke, to becoming an actor that seemed to grow more and more popular with each day. He wished that his only impression of TJ _wasn’t _ on that summer’s night years ago, where he’d caught a glimpse of him right before leaving their town for good. 

But he couldn’t do_ any _of that_,_ not even in the slightest. 

The past few years for him had consisted of burning down every single bridge that tied him to that town, and now all of sudden there was TJ Kippen, waltzing right in and reminding him of all the things his life used to be. He thought he’d be able to do it, but as he watched the sunset with each day, bringing them nearer to filming, he felt nervousness began to creep up on him, like the shadows were closing in on him now as dusk approached. 

Their DM’s a month back had been one thing after all, but their table-read had been another thing entirely. He froze up immediately upon seeing TJ’s face, and made an effort to avoid his gaze from across the table as much as humanly possible. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint why he was nervous, he just knew that he  _ was_, and it was a heavy kind of nervousness that created a pit in his stomach. Even  during scenes that aimed to build the romantic tension between their characters, he could barely maintain eye contact. This, of course, had prompted a numerous amount of smug smiles from TJ throughout the entire day, alongside the occasional ‘what’s the weather like down there, Goodman?’ whenever they took breaks for coffee. 

Yeah. He was definitely the smug asshole Cyrus had been expecting. 

By the same token however, even Cyrus couldn’t deny that he was awfully good at small talk, as well as entertaining others with his antics. Almost _infuriatingly _ so if you asked him. 

Moonlight seeped in through the cracks of his hotel room blinds, falling onto the bed covers in narrow strips. Light emanated from his laptop, which was sat on his lap, illuminating his face up amongst the darkness. The darkness that seemed to be pressing up against him insistently, reminding him of how alone he was in that room. It wasn’t usually a problem for him, so he wasn’t exactly sure what had changed this time, but he got up anyway and padded over to flick the lights on again. 

He relaxed slightly. 

It was a modern hotel room. 4 stars if he could remember correctly, with sleek white tiles, soft carpet and a large bed pushed up against the wall, which was adorned by beach photography. A TV sat opposite his bed, and beside it, a counter separated the main space from his kitchenette, which contained a small stove and a minifridge. His agent had arranged for him to stay here during the shoot, after deciding that it would be too much of a hassle each day to get to and from their location from Cyrus’ shared house on the outskirts of L.A. 

He moved back over to the bed, settling down against the headboard and reading over the email again. It was from the second assistant director, and it contained everything he needed to know about the location and the scenes they’d be shooting. A once over confirmed that he’d be sharing all of his scenes with TJ, and with a scoff, he remembered that this really shouldn’t have come as a surprise given that they were supposed to be best friends. 

Eventually, when even the light couldn’t keep his loneliness at bay, he decided that he’d give Andi and Buffy a call. It went through a few rings before their smiling faces appeared on screen, and instantly, he felt a wave of relief. 

“Cyrus! How’s the hotel?” asked Andi, playfully taking the phone away from Buffy. 

He could barely contain a smile of his own as he leaned back against his pillows. 

“It’s good,” he told them, “but I wish you guys were here.” 

Andi, who had been purposely holding the phone out of Buffy’s reach, paused in her actions immediately at hearing those words. 

Her expression softened. “Hey, we’ll come visit you! There’s a queen-sized bed, right? I bet we could all squeeze on.” 

Cyrus laughed slightly at that, giving the girl a fond eye-roll. Mindlessly, he began to fiddle with the bracelet she’d made him when they were younger - the one thing he’d somehow managed not to lose over his lifetime. 

“We could try,” he answered, uncertainly. He glanced around at the bed, trying to assess whether three people could really fit on it. 

“Maybe we could bring the air mattress with us,” Buffy piped up, “I mean, it never gets used anyway.” 

Cyrus just shook his head though, conscious of the fact that both of his friends had places to be during the day anyway, with Andi at her studio, and Buffy at her college. 

“No it’s okay, that sounds like a hassle,” he said, “I’ll be fine! I just need some adjusting.” 

Andi’s expression still seemed hesitant at those words, but she gave a nod anyway. 

“How was the table-read yesterday?” 

Cyrus sighed slightly at the reminder. 

“It was good. I mean, I didn’t really talk to TJ much because he was busy.” He hesitated for a moment, feeling guilt coil up inside of him at the partial lie, but pressed on regardless. “I probably can’t say much about the script, but...some of the scenes between Miles and Noah are romantic as hell. I need a Noah ASAP,” he told them, smile widening when Andi began to giggle. 

“You’ll find a Noah,” she promised, but Cyrus just let out a sigh. 

“I wish I had _time _ for a Noah,” he responded, which had Andi and Buffy exchanging an exasperated glance. 

He supposed he couldn’t blame them. Cyrus had adamantly maintained the idea that his work didn’t leave enough room for relationships, and that was true in a sense. However, he’d be lying if he said fear didn’t fill him at the prospect of having one. He’d barely had any romantic experience beyond kissing that boy from his hometown, and even then, that hadn’t been much. He’d kissed people on screen, sure, but that was worlds away, even  _ galaxies _ away, from kissing someone you actually liked. So, Cyrus did what he did best when it came to things that frightened him - he pushed them away. 

After what felt like minutes but was probably seconds, Buffy piped up again. 

“Have you memorised your lines?” 

Cyrus couldn’t help but smile slightly at the suggestion that he _wouldn’t_ have them memorised. Leaving a bad impression with the director after one day of shooting wasn’t an option in the slightest. 

“Only back-to-front,” he answered, to which Andi laughed. 

“Of course,” she nodded, before pausing. “...So, do you think things will be okay with TJ? On-screen, I mean?” 

Cyrus hesitated for a few moments, thinking back to the day before. If he wanted things to run smoothly, then he supposed that things would _have _ to work out between TJ and him. 

“I hope so. I mean...he’s annoying, and I don’t even wanna _know _ how many roles he’s taken from me-“ Buffy snorted at that, “but...I’m sure we could keep things professional.” 

Andi gave him a playful smile. “Just flash him one of your adorable little smiles! That’ll get him.” 

“For some reason, I don’t think adorable little smiles will work on TJ,” Cyrus responded, laughing slightly. 

Buffy’s eyes were shining with amusement now. “Hey, you never know!” 

He shrugged at that, unable to keep from thinking back over all the times TJ Kippen had managed to surprise him before. 

“I guess not.” 

~ 

_ August 10th, 2019 _

As the sun began to climb the sky, rising in a pool of reds and oranges, Cyrus set off on his walk to set. He’d considered driving, but one glance at the congestion that was already clogging up the bustling roads was enough to persuade him that it’d be a bad idea. The air was already beginning to warm, with the promise of a burning summer’s day, and the palm trees that lined the streets swayed gently under the breeze. Everything became a blur of cars, signs and noises as he fell right into his own thoughts, occasionally glancing down at his phone to check google maps. 

Cyrus took in a deep breath, preparing himself for what was likely going to be a long day of shooting. The scents from various storefronts he passed seemed to mesh together into one, with hints of sweetness in particular coming from the ice cream vendors he passed. Briefly, the thought crossed his mind that even  _ he _ wouldn't eat ice cream at this hour, but it went as soon as it had come. 

He was determined this time that he wouldn’t let any of his past with TJ prevent him from talking to the boy. They were co-stars after all, and the crew would be relying on them to act as though they were madly in love, among other things. Cyrus‘ thoughts wandered back to the various scenes they shared in the script, and he couldn’t help but groan as his eyes landed on a faraway yellow sign, with words he could only make out as ‘Down to Ashes.’ 

Luckily, it was relatively easy to locate base camp once he’d entered the site, and with some asking around he managed to find the second assistant director. He was stood outside of one of the trailers, looking somehow frazzled with his clipboard in hand. His hair was in disarray, and his glasses were slightly askew, but the smile on his lips as he greeted Cyrus seemed friendly enough. 

The trailers were a striking white, bright against the clear blue sky. The sun continued to rise with each minute that passed, and the air was already beginning to feel heavy with heat. He almost considered pulling out his sunglasses as the man led him to his trailer, but he decided against it. 

“You can stay in your trailer for now - I’ve already signed you in. We’ll call you out for makeup and hair soon.” 

Cyrus nodded, very used to playing the waiting game at this point in his acting career. He glanced around one more time towards the other trailers, where various people seemed to be rushing between them, before approaching the door, footsteps clanging loudly against the metal. 

It was spacious inside, with a cushy-looking couch and soft carpet spanning the floor. There was a TV on the wall, which was a plain white in comparison to all of the deep red furniture. Cyrus smiled slightly as he approached the table, where a few contracts were laid down for him to sign. 

He got that out of the way first, eyes skimming over the fine print as he did so. A glance over at his wardrobe confirmed that his clothes for that day were already hanging up. He placed his bag down on the table, flicking his curtains shut with the intent to change, but before he could even approach the wardrobe there was a sharp knock at his door. 

Eyebrows furrowed now with confusion, he walked over hesitantly and pushed it open. 

There, smiling up at him in all of his glory, was TJ Kippen. Cyrus almost wanted to laugh, but he decided on leaning against the door frame and raising his eyebrows instead.

“Hey up there,” said TJ, and Cyrus just rolled his eyes. 

“Hey. Can I help you?” 

He raised his arms in surrender, eyes alight with laughter as they met Cyrus’. His gel-free hair was swept up carelessly, he was wearing a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses, and  _was that a tan he somehow hadn’t noticed yesterday? _

“Nope. I just wanted to double-check this one’s yours. We’re trailer buddies, you know?” 

Cyrus tried to fight back a smile at that, but he failed miserably. In his defence, it really wasn’t fair in the slightest that the actor he’d been competing against all these years had such a charming air about him. He always seemed to breeze around, talking to random people as though it was nothing, and in the back of Cyrus’ mind, he couldn’t get the image of how reserved he’d been during their time at high school. Despite his popularity, he had always seemed closed-off somehow. 

“Cool. Was that all?” 

TJ’s smile widened at that, and Cyrus was  honestly  beginning to think that he was only maintaining this excessive niceness to annoy him. 

He didn’t wait for a response after that, choosing instead to begin pulling the door shut, but to his surprise TJ spoke up suddenly, tone serious now. 

“Wait - Cyrus.” 

His expression smoothed out into one of shock at those words, but he pushed the door open again regardless and met TJ’s gaze firmly with his own. 

“What is it?” 

“I...I have a proposal,” he explained, stepping up onto the first stair. 

Cyrus regarded him for a moment, eyes narrowed sceptically, before stepping aside to allow him in. TJ’s lips curved up into a gentle smile that was miles away from his usual smirk as he did so, and Cyrus caught a whiff of what he was sure was lavender as he passed by. 

The door closed with a gentle thud, muffling the chatter that filled the trailers opposite them. He turned around to face TJ, an eyebrow raised now in question. 

“Okay,” TJ began, “so...not to state the obvious, but we’re kind of playing two best friends in love.” 

Cyrus nodded slightly, arms folded defensively over his chest. “That doesn’t have to extend to our off-screen selves for us to do a good job.” 

“Does it look like I’m setting up a candlelit dinner?” asked TJ, and Cyrus couldn’t help the amused huff that escaped him at that. 

“Fine. What’s the proposal, then?” 

TJ took a step forward, in line now with the table. Suddenly, Cyrus could feel that same nervousness from the table-read bubbling up inside his stomach. 

“For the sake of professionalism,” he said, placing a casual hand on the table, “I say we pretend this is our first time meeting one another.” 

Cyrus’ eyebrows shot up at that. He really hadn’t expected _TJ _ of all people to propose something like that, given their history, but the more he thought about it the more he supposed it made sense. He wouldn’t be able to make it through this shoot with his preconceived ideas about TJ constantly swirling around in his head, distracting him entirely what he was supposed to be doing there. Surely TJ must’ve changed from the boy he once was if his career was any indicator. 

_ Right? _

He thought about this a moment longer, expression hesitant, before giving a slow nod. He dropped his arms from where they were crossed. 

“Okay,” he answered, taking in a deep breath, “let’s do it.” 

Shock briefly registered on TJ’s face, but it was replaced by a wide smile soon enough. He took another step forward, holding out a hand. 

“Okay then. Hi, I’m TJ Kippen.” 

Cyrus gave him a small smile. “I’m Cyrus Goodman,” he returned, accepting the handshake. 

It felt slightly ridiculous, but the tension between them, which had initially felt like a thick fog, seemed to dissipate ever so slightly. 

TJ looked down at the table, where the mini sides for that day were laid and plucked them up. “Any changes to the script?” he wondered, to which Cyrus gave a shrug. 

He collapsed down onto the couch while TJ flicked through the mini sides, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. Cyrus watched him for a moment or two, jolting slightly when his phone sounded with a notification. Briefly, the hopeful thought flashed across his mind that maybe, just _maybe, _his mom had decided to text him, but that hope was crushed the moment he pulled out his phone as it always was. 

Instead, he was met with a passive-aggressive notification from Duolingo, urging him to take a few lessons. He let out an involuntary sigh as he placed his phone down on the arm of the couch, slouching down into the pillows. Despite remaining adamant all these years that he wanted to burn down every bridge connecting him to Shadyside, an ache still filled his chest at the prospect that he’d likely never receive word from his mom about how she was. His excessive calling and texting had done nothing to change that, and the ever-present fear that something had happened to her loomed over him constantly like an insistent dark cloud. 

TJ glanced up again, seemingly oblivious to Cyrus’ sudden change in demeanour. 

“Well, I have about three line changes but I don’t think you have any so you’re good.” 

Cyrus just nodded at that, straightening in his seat again. TJ glanced down at the notification on his home screen, and a smile almost as bright as the sun outside appeared on his face. 

“You’re doing Dutch lessons?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” he responded, laughing slightly, “don’t ask why, I just thought Dutch seemed cool.” 

“Maybe you _don’t _ have terrible taste when it comes to everything,” TJ smiled, earning him an offended gasp. 

“What did you just say?” Cyrus asked him, gaze accusatory as he watched TJ drop down on the couch beside him. 

“Oh come on,” he laughed, “I’ve seen your twitter! You have a terrible music taste. And a terrible taste in ice cream flavours, and a terrible taste in pets, and-“ 

“911?” Cyrus interrupted, holding his phone up to his ear, “yeah, I’d like to report a stalker, please. You’ll be right down? Okay, great,” he nodded, laughing when TJ playfully took the phone away from him. 

“Ignore that call! He’s a dog person, you can’t trust him,” he added, and Cyrus gave his shoulder a playful swat. 

“Are you saying you’re a cat person, then? I should’ve known,” he scoffed, and TJ just laughed. 

Briefly, the thought crossed his mind that this really _shouldn’t _ have felt so easy given their past, but he was quick to push it away. There was still an array of noises from outside reaching his trailer, and through his curtains he could see the outlines of people as they rushed about, but that had quickly become white noise. 

“Anyways, back to the point - I speak Dutch fluently, so I could totally teach you,” said TJ, as though it was the most casual thing in the world. 

“Firstly, how? Secondly, full offence, but why would I accept that offer when I have an electronic owl teaching me already? She’ll miss me if I don’t use Duolingo.” 

Despite framing it as a joke, for some reason, Cyrus couldn’t stomach the idea of hanging out with TJ more than what was necessary. The thought filled him with nervousness all over again. Sure, they’d struck up a truce of sorts, but he’d much rather be spending time with his actual friends. 

TJ scoffed as he stood up, raising a hand up to his chest in offence. “Firstly, my grandma is Dutch, secondly...I can’t believe how hard you’ve fallen into their corporate trap, but okay.” 

Cyrus just shrugged at that fully accepting the fact that TJ was most likely right. 

“Get back to me when you’re a green electronic owl.” 

TJ gave him a fond eye-roll. “Will do.” 

~ 

It was when the last remnants of light in the sky had faded that Cyrus finally collapsed down onto his bed, burying his face into his soft, silk-like pillows. Through his window, purples were fading into deep blues, and there still wasn’t a cloud to be seen anywhere. There was silence in his room, apart from the running fridge, and beyond that only the jarring sounds of heavy traffic seeped in through the cracks of his window. 

He had a song playing softly beside his head as he lay there, entirely too exhausted to move. Getting back into the swing of things had always been hard for him, and he could feel the familiar heaviness in his muscles that came with beginning a new production. 

Drowsiness tugged at his eyelids, threatening to pull him under, when he was jolted out of his daze by rapid knocking at his door. Sighing, he managed to lift himself off the bed with some effort and drag himself over to the door, schooling the best _‘i’m not in the mood’ _ expression he possibly could as he threw it open. 

A smile lit up his exhausted face in an instant upon seeing Andi there grinning back at him, and he practically attacked the girl with a hug. She looked glamorous as she always did, with shiny pink lipgloss to match her dress, and Cyrus didn’t think he’d ever been so relieved to see anyone in his life. If he’d been tired before, he certainly wasn’t now. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, smiling as he ushered the girl inside the closed the door behind her with a gentle thud. 

“Well,” she began, placing a bag down on the counter, “Buffy is staying with a friend, and my studio is pretty much a halfway point between our house and your hotel. So I thought I’d crash here for the night!” 

Cyrus flicked on the lights, their reflections appearing in the window due to the darkness outside, and hastily kicked aside a pair of jeans. It’d been about five days since he last saw Andi, which may not have seemed drastic to most people but for  _them, _ it was basically the end of the world. 

“Oh, and I come bearing gifts!” she added, rummaging around in her bag for a moment. 

Andi placed two iced chocolates down onto the marble counter, alongside a small bag of mangoes. Cyrus couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. 

“You know me so well,” he sighed. 

She flashed him another smile at that, shrugging off her fluffy black coat. “I may have to borrow some clothes though, this was kind of a last-minute decision,” she added, and Cyrus nodded. 

“My clothes are your clothes.” 

Then, as though they’d been magically transported back to fifth grade, the pair decided upon building a makeshift fort once they’d changed into comfortable clothes. Darkness surrounded them, kept at bay only by the small light they’d taken in with them, and the pair were enjoying their iced chocolate and sliced mangoes as they scavenged around for YouTube videos to watch. It had become somewhat of a tradition for them, not diminished in the slightest when they began to grow up, and Cyrus was grateful for it. 

“So, do you have any gossip from set today?” Andi asked him, and even through the darkness Cyrus could see the way her eyes sparkled with excitement. 

He laughed. “I mean, it’s only been a day, so there’s not much to gossip about.” 

The girl just arched an eyebrow at him though,  as though what she was trying to suggest was obvious. Cyrus shrugged, attempting to play innocent. 

“There’s TJ,” she prompted, as she took a sip of her drink, “and the fact that you guys were like...rivals before this. Did anything happen?” 

Cyrus couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that, unable to keep from smiling. He supposed something _did _ happen between them, with that makeshift truce, but he hadn’t considered it an overly big deal at the time and he still didn’t. It was simply a way to ensure they could remain professional on set. 

“Well...he had this ‘proposal’, where he suggested that we should pretend we haven’t met one another up until that point,” said Cyrus, earning him a wide-eyed look from Andi. 

“Really?” she asked, incredulously. 

Cyrus nodded. “So now we’re...civil?” 

“I guess that makes sense,” she nodded, looking thoughtful, “isn’t it like...at least a little bit awkward, though?” 

Cyrus thought back to their conversation in the trailer, and their subsequent encounters on set. He wanted more than anything to say that things were at least slightly awkward between them, because that would be normal given their circumstances, but talking to TJ was so ridiculously _easy _ he could barely believe it. The thought made him wince ever so slightly. 

“Surprisingly enough - no,” he answered, laughing slightly, “it wasn’t too bad. I found out he speaks Dutch, and that he’s a cat person. Oh - get this, he fake tans, right? But it doesn’t even look that bad! It looks normal.” 

“He fake _tans?_ ” she asked, grinning, “I mean - he’s an actor, why am I surprised?” 

“You have a point,” he nodded, returning her grin, “Oh, also! We didn’t even film any one-on-one scenes between us, but we still had to have these tense moments in front of the group, right? So now, I think I genuinely know TJ’s _exact _ eye colour from having to stare so much.” 

Andi let out an amused huff. “You know, I bet there like a billion people out there who would _pay_ to look TJ Kippen in the eyes for hours on end.” 

“Well, I’m definitely not one of those people,” said Cyrus, folding his arms over his chest, and Andi just laughed. 

“Me neither. He’s into dirt-biking though, which kind of gives him a few cool points. No offense.” 

“None taken,” he said, “things are breezy between us, remember?” 

“Breezy? Like...a pleasant breeze, or a breeze that’s moments away from turning into a storm?” 

Cyrus hesitated for a moment at those words, a small smile on his lips. “A pleasant one...I’d hope anyway,” he told her. 

Andi gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I hope so too. Now - can I tell you about the cute girl that just joined our studio?” 

He let out a short laugh. “Yes, Andi. You can tell me about the cute girl.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand that was it, thanks for reading!! Comments/kudos are appreciated as always if you liked the chapter <3
> 
> Follow me on tumblr if you want! @heart-eyes-kippen


	4. Friends Without The Strings Attached

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJ has another proposal for Cyrus. Marty is a good friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Your girl is back with another chapter and another reminder to stan Smriti bc I love her <33

_August 16th, 2019_

TJ felt tired right down to his bones as he entered Marty’s apartment, his heart-shaped sunglasses masking the darkness that was faintly visible beneath his eyes. Their working days were long, and as he much as he loved shooting action movies, there was a significant amount of work involved compared to the romance movies he’d gotten used to over the past year. 

The corridor behind him was dark, filled only by the fading light outside, and he couldn’t help but let out an involuntary sigh of relief as he closed the door behind with a gentle thud. 

Marty’s apartment was surprisingly well-kept, given that he could barely keep his locker clean while they’d been in school together. Not a thing seemed to be out of place, although he supposed that must’ve been easy given how sparsely furnished every room except Marty’s bedroom seemed to be. Various pride flags were hung up on the walls, as well as a photo of them posing with Amber that TJ had teased him for, but privately found cute.

Now that he thought about it, Marty’s ‘work room’ (read: the soundproof room he used to produce songs) was the messiest out of all of them, which seem to suggest that either Marty only cared about keeping certain parts of his house clean or that Marty spent way too much time in that room alone, meaning TJ _really _needed to get this boy out of the house more. 

He heard footsteps pad along the hallway, and soon enough Marty was emerging with his usual grin. He watched as TJ toed his shoes off and walked over to the counter, placing down his sunglasses and his keys.

“How was work, honey?” Marty teased, earning him a glare. 

He moved forward, plucking up TJ’s sunglasses. “I don’t know why you insist on wearing these things everywhere,” he said, sliding them on. 

“They’re cute,” TJ defended as he moved around the marble island towards the sink. Somehow, he’d forgotten how hard acting could be on his voice, between talking to various cast members and actually _shooting _scenes, he could already feel it beginning to deteriorate. 

“Any news from set?” Marty asked him, jumping up to sit on the counter. 

TJ glanced back at him as he grabbed a glass, smiling ever so slightly. 

“Not really, unless you wanna know the exact colour of Cyrus Goodman’s eyes. _And _what they look like when several specific types of light hit them.”

Marty gave him a knowing smile as he approached again, leaning back against the island with a glass of water in hand now. 

“Did you shoot a romantic scene?” he teased, to which TJ gave a groan.

“Yeah. My character had to show his character how to use some of the weapons they found together. Cue the ‘oops I tripped over but you caught me and now we’re staring longingly into each other’s eyes for way too long’ moment. The director wasn’t happy with the lighting so they kept having to change it.”

“Aww cute,” Marty cooed, and TJ leaned over to give his friend’s shoulder a playful shove. Truthfully, he hadn’t even found the scene so bad to shoot, but Marty definitely didn’t need to know that. In fact - _no one _needed to know that. 

Their plan to remain professional had worked well enough over the past few days, and miraculously, no disagreements had broken out between them. TJ still enjoyed trying to get on his nerves between scenes, but Cyrus seemed to be smiling along more and more with each day that passed, and it was becoming difficult. 

When he remembered what the director had told them that day however, a wince appeared on his face. 

“Actually - there _is _news,” he sighed, and Marty perked up slightly with interest. “The director ‘recommended’ that Cyrus and I start hanging out more outside of working hours. She said, and I quote, ‘you guys are doing a great job, but I think this could make being best friends on screen feel more natural.’ 

Marty lasted all of two seconds before he was bursting out into laughter, eyes alight with amusement. TJ let out a huff, crossing his arms tightly over his chest to convey his indignance. 

“I’m sorry, but come on! I’m trying to imagine you hanging out with Cyrus as friends and I just _can’t_.”

“Is that a challenge?” TJ asked him, an eyebrow raised, and Marty seemed to calm down the slightest amount, giving him a grin.

“No, but I’m guessing you’re gonna take it as one.”

TJ opened his mouth to respond, but an incoming call had him freezing in his tracks. Both of them looked towards TJ’s phone and Marty’s expression immediately fell, as though he hadn’t even been smiling in the first place. TJ’s mouth felt dry all of a sudden. 

He approached hesitantly, picking it up from the counter and looking down blankly at the name that lit up his screen. It was his dad. 

Of course it was. 

Marty hopped down from the counter, offering him a small smile. “You don’t have to pick up, you know?” 

TJ shook his head though, knowing well that he’d only make things worse by not picking up.

“I’ll be right back,” he said simply, hurrying out of the living room. Marty just watched, eyebrows furrowed slightly, as TJ disappeared down the hallway. 

He picked up the call as he went, being greeted immediately by the muffled sound of his dad’s low voice. 

“TJ! I was just calling to check in. How’s the movie going?” 

TJ swallowed hard as he shut the spare bedroom door behind him, flicking on the lights and sitting stiffly down on the edge of his bed. It was dark outside, but not completely pitch black. Faintly, stars were beginning to burn against dark blue. 

“Good,” he answered simply. 

“What’s your role this time?” 

TJ began to feel panic claw at his throat as he thought about the character he was playing, and how disgusted his dad would be if he knew the truth. He’d see it eventually, TJ knew that, but he wasn’t ready by any means to admit to it yet. 

“A guy who’s friends with the main character. He’s into um...fighting. Weapons. That sort of stuff.” 

His dad paused for a moment, and TJ could practically _hear _the grin on his face when he spoke next. 

“Have you spoken to any of the girls on set? Are they nice?” 

TJ nodded, despite knowing his dad couldn’t see him. “Yeah, they’re great.” 

“Any you’re interested in?” 

“No,” he answered, stomach turning uneasily. “I’m too busy for relationships, dad.” 

“You keep saying that, but I’m getting worried TJ. I mean, at your age you should’ve at least had _one_ girlfriend, but you haven’t had any.”

TJ took in a deep breath, feeling short of oxygen all of a sudden. “It’s nothing. I’m just not interested right now.” 

A pause. He could feel his heart soaring now, thumping away so rapidly he was scared his dad would be able to hear it. 

“Who are you staying with, again?” 

“Marty,” he answered firmly, feeling even more on edge now. Suddenly, those cigarettes he’d thrown away upon arrival were beginning to sound appealing.

“Right. Marty. You know I’ve always thought that guy was a bad influence, I don’t know what you’re doing staying with him.” 

“You only think that because he’s-“ TJ cut himself off, swallowing hard. He always found it so easy to be outright, but something about talking to his dad seemed to unravel him completely.

“That has nothing to do with it,” his dad argued, voice rising in volume, and TJ closed his eyes for a moment or two, attempting to collect himself. 

“It’s getting late, I should probably go.” 

He heard a heavy sigh from the other end, and a sudden pang of guilt filled his chest. 

“Okay. Could you tell your mother that-“ 

“I’m not your messenger,” he interrupted, voice wavering slightly, “goodnight, dad.” 

TJ remained perfectly still for a few long moments after hanging up, a wave of exhaustion and sadness crashing down over him all at once. Eventually, he managed to drag himself up from the bed again with some effort and walk back into the living room.

Marty looked up from his phone immediately, a slight wince on his face. “Bad?” 

“Slightly better than usual,” he shrugged, moving towards the couch, “but still pretty bad.” 

Marty scooted over the moment TJ sat down, which didn’t take much considering how small the couch was, and wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, smiling sadly, but that only made Marty’s grip on him tighten. 

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, resting his head gently against Marty’s. “I just wish we didn’t always end up arguing. I mean - what’s the point of calling if he ends up saying the same shit anyway? I’m literally an adult now, why do I even bother?” 

Marty nodded, offering him a sympathetic smile. “I know.” 

TJ opened his mouth to continue, but he immediately closed it again when his eyes caught sight of the glass bottles that were stood atop the counter now. Marty followed his gaze, and a guilty look crossed his face.

“I realised I still had them laying around so I emptied them,” he explained, sounding cautious. 

TJ looked over at him, letting out a sigh. “Marty-“ 

“_TJ,_” he interrupted, voice kind but firm, “I’m not leaving alcohol lying around while you’re here.”

Marty’s expression was visibly tinged with worry now, and TJ felt his stomach turn with guilt. He ended up resigning with another sigh.

“Okay.” 

“Good,” said Marty, standing up with a bright smile. TJ looked up at him in confusion, hesitantly taking his outstretched hand. 

“What is it?” 

“I was gonna order takeout, but now I have a better idea.” 

A smile began to tug at TJ’s lips. He’d come to realise over the years that Marty’s ideas were either really great or really terrible. There was never an in-between when it came to him.

“A better idea?” he hummed, raising a playful eyebrow. 

Marty walked over to the front door, pulling his keys from his pocket and tossing them up into the air with a smirk. 

“We’re gonna hit the town.”

~

L.A was a busy place. 

Of course, this wasn’t a new discovery for TJ, but travelling to the heart of the city definitely reminded him of it. When they’d finally found a place to park, the pair began roaming the streets. Everything was a blur of flashing lights, storefronts, cars, and people - trying to focus on every sound and every sight at once was virtually impossible. Palm trees swayed beneath the evening breeze, which gusted by in a surprisingly gentle manner. Every single noise blended into one loud rumble, and after spending a few months in his quaint home town it all felt somewhat overwhelming.

He loved it. 

There was something about city nightlife that couldn’t quite be held to any other kind of excitement. He was buzzing with energy, and the enthusiasm seemed to be spreading to Marty too because he usually spent his days complaining about how crowded the city was. Now however, there was a grin painted across his face, illuminated by neon lights of varying colours. The night’s shadows were kept at bay in most areas apart from the stores that had closed down for the night, which were a dull contrast to everything else. 

TJ spotted an ice cream vendor not so far away, and without thinking he began tugging Marty towards it, ignoring the strange looks he was garnering. 

“Do you want some?” TJ asked as he pulled out his wallet and joined the small queue.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Marty asked him seriously. 

TJ took that as a yes, breaking out into a smile before glancing up towards the options they had. The man working there was friendly, suggesting their new flavour to both of them, and TJ shrugged before accepted the offer. 

Soon enough, the pair were walking down the crowded streets of L.A. again, rocky road ice creams in hand.

“Is this our dinner?” Marty grinned, voice carried slightly by the breeze.

TJ smiled and shook his head. “Nah, these are entreés,” he replied. 

Despite the burning heat that often accompanied summer days in L.A., he had always loved summer evenings, when the heat gave way to a pleasant, humming warmth. Everything felt alive, as though an underlying spark of electricity filled the air around them. 

“Let’s run,” TJ said suddenly, looking over at Marty. 

Before he could even respond TJ was taking off, making sure to manoeuvre himself away from the crowds. Marty lingered there for a moment, shaking his head in bewilderment, before following. Storefronts passed by in a blur, and the burning sensation that began to fill his chest didn’t seem so unpleasant for once.

He eventually came to a stop, completely out of breath, but relieved that he could expend some of his pent-up energy. Marty was beside him in an instant, expression lit up by laughter. He barely looked out of breath, and TJ honestly wouldn’t have been able to tell he’d done any physical activity at all apart from the slight flush that coloured his cheeks. 

“You’re a dumbass,” he told him, playfully smacking TJ’s shoulder. There was no heat behind the comment - both of them knew that. 

Marty’s smile softened slightly. “I missed you.”

TJ couldn’t do anything apart from smile back and wrap his friend up in a hug. At one time he would’ve refrained from doing so, but now, he honestly couldn’t care less about how it might’ve looked to any passers-by. A small spark of pride filled his chest at the realisation of how far he’d come in that regard. 

Right after they’d pulled away, both beaming, TJ’s phone lit up with a notification. He glanced down casually, the pale light illuminating his face, before double-taking. 

It was a DM from Cyrus. 

Marty was looking down at his phone too now, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Aw, it’s your favourite person,” he teased, earning himself a playful swat. 

He opened Twitter, ignoring all of his incoming DM’s and tapping on Cyrus’ username. 

** _certified disaster: _ ** _is that you standing outside of a burger joint or am i officially going crazy?? _

TJ’s heart leapt at that, and he turned around hurriedly to face the opposite side of the street. Marty’s eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion, and he stepped forward to stand beside him.

Sure enough, there was Cyrus, waving at him amongst the chaos, face lit up blue by the flashing sign above his head. TJ let out a disbelieving huff, turning to Marty with a slight grimace. 

“It’s him,” he said simply. 

“I know,” Marty smiled, “I have eyes."

“We’re going,” said TJ, tugging at the boy’s arm, but Marty remained rooted to the spot. 

TJ wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him up when Marty, the _bastard_, began waving Cyrus over. He shook his head frantically, hoping to god that Cyrus would just leave it. For a fleeting moment TJ thought that his prayers had miraculously been heard because he kept walking, seemingly headed in the opposite direction he’d come from. It took him all of two seconds to figure out that Cyrus was _actually _headed towards the nearby crossing. 

Goddammit. 

He wasn’t necessarily _opposed _to hanging out with Cyrus outside of working hours, but at that moment TJ just wasn’t particularly in the mood to try and keep up a conversation neither of them would likely want. There was no need for professionalism now that they were off set, and the thought of that intimidated him slightly. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” he told his friend seriously, and Marty just laughed. 

“I’m helping you!” he exclaimed, voice raised slightly to be heard over the crowds, “didn’t the director say you two should hang out off set?” 

TJ just groaned, arms folded stubbornly over his chest as Marty tugged him towards the burger joint, away from the streams of people. After a few minutes, Cyrus and a girl TJ didn’t recognise were approaching them both, and TJ’s urge to run suddenly felt all-consuming.

“Hey!” Marty greeted, all smiles and enthusiasm. TJ directed a death glare at him, before schooling a pleasant expression and turning to the pair. 

“Hey, Cyrus. Hey...” 

“Buffy,” the girl nodded.

Even _TJ _could recognise that she was beautiful, with a glowing smile and curly hair that seemed to fall in a way that was effortlessly perfect. Marty must’ve been quick to recognise this too, because TJ didn’t think he’d ever seen him smile so wide. 

“Buffy,” he confirmed, extending a hand. “I’m TJ, and this is Marty. I really like your dress, by the way.” 

She regarded him for a moment, as though calculating something in her head, before accepting the handshake. 

“Thanks! I like your shirt,” she returned, glancing down at the rainbow ‘love is love’ that was printed across it. TJ couldn’t help but smile. 

Cyrus was glancing between TJ and Marty rather than focusing on the exchange, and something about his expression seemed awkward. TJ couldn’t quite pinpoint it, and he was well aware that he could’ve just been reading it wrong, so decided against bringing it up. Instead, he offered Cyrus a wave. 

“Hey.” 

Cyrus laughed slightly, returning the wave. “Hey.” 

Marty shot TJ an amused glance, which earned him another death glare in return. Privately, he felt relief wash over him at the fact that Cyrus didn’t seem to suddenly despise him now that they were off set.

“So what are you guys doing out here?” Cyrus asked them. 

“Just wandering,” he answered with a shrug. “We were thinking of grabbing dinner.” 

Buffy gave them both a smile, eyes lingering on Marty. “Well, maybe we could all grab drinks or something? Cyrus and I were headed to a bar not too far from here anyway, I’m sure they have food there.”

The smile immediately slipped from Marty’s face. He glanced over at TJ, whose face had paled slightly, before turning back to the pair.

“Um - I actually don’t really drink,“ he lied, glancing back at the burger joint they were standing in front of, “and we were kind of planning on getting something from here. You guys are welcome to join us if you want!"

Buffy’s eyebrows raised slightly at Marty’s obvious stumbling, and that same sceptical look from before crossed her face. TJ held his breath. 

She exchanged a glance with Cyrus, who shrugged his shoulders and nodded, before turning back to the pair. “Sure, why not?” 

The noise from outside was immediately muffled when the glass door closed behind them. It was a homely looking place, with rustic furnishing, and brick spanning the walls. Lamps hung from the ceiling, bathing each table in warm light. 

Marty was the first to approach the man that was stood there, an automatic smile appearing on his lips that was miles away from the one he’d given Buffy just minutes prior. 

“Hey, do you guys happen to have any spare tables?” he asked. 

“Absolutely! Would that be a table for four people?” 

He glanced back towards Buffy, and they somehow seemed to have a brief conversation through facial expressions and nods alone. He raised his eyebrows, exchanging an amused glance with Cyrus as Marty turned back to the man.

“Um, actually, would two tables for two people be okay?” 

TJ’s mouth fell open in shock, and from the lack of surprise on Buffy’s face he could only assume they’d somehow managed to agree upon that decision via facial expressions. 

Cyrus gave his friend an accusatory glare.

“You guys need to hang out more, remember?” was all she said, smiling as she followed Marty.

TJ and Cyrus were lead to another table soon enough, right in the corner of the restaurant. 

“We’re splitting the bill, just to be clear,” said Cyrus, to which TJ gave an amused huff. 

“Thanks for clarifying.” 

Silence fell between them as they scanned the menus, made even more painful by the chattering that he could hear coming from other tables.

“I think we need a new arrangement,” Cyrus said suddenly, looking up from his menu.

TJ smirked slightly. “What? Being professional isn’t enough for you?” 

Cyrus rolled his eyes, but the small smile on his lips gave him away. “It’s more than enough for me, but I don’t think it’s enough for Hansen.” 

“_More _than enough? I’m hurt,” said TJ, tipping his head to the side. 

Cyrus just groaned, burying his face in his heads. “You’re impossible,” is what he managed to make out, and a smile appeared on his face.

“Okay, okay. I have a new proposal.” 

_That _had Cyrus looking up again, raising an eyebrow in question. “What is it?” 

“We can be friends without the strings attached.” 

TJ watched as Cyrus considered the words, clearly turning them over in his head. Deep down he was nervous about forming _any _kind of friendship with Cyrus, but frustratingly enough, he couldn’t pinpoint why exactly that was. It was the kind of nervousness that settled deep in the pit of his stomach, not intense enough to be a nuisance but enough to be noticeable. TJ Kippen wasn’t used to feeling nervous, and here Cyrus was, somehow sparking that within him. Who gave him the right? 

“What do you mean by ‘without the strings attached?,” Cyrus asked, jolting TJ out of his slight trance. 

“I mean...” he hesitated for a moment, biting his lip, “I mean that we can do friend things, like hang out and go places, but without all the emotional stuff.” 

Cyrus gave him a slow nod. “Okay, but if we’re going to be friends without strings attached, then we should at least have nicknames for one another.” 

TJ couldn’t help but smile at that. “I have a feeling I know where you’re taking this.” 

It might’ve been a trick of the light, but he swore he saw Cyrus’ face flush ever so slightly.

“Do you?” he challenged, leaning forward on his elbows. 

TJ leaned back against his seat, folding his arms. “You wanna call me Theo.” 

Cyrus’ smile widened, and TJ knew he was right. 

“Theo’s a nice name.”

For some reason, the more TJ thought about it the more he became okay with the idea. He’d always hated his name, because it’s what his dad used to call him, but the way it sounded coming from Cyrus was vastly different to the way it had sounded coming from his dad. From Cyrus, it sounded gentle, like the warmth of a summer evening. From his dad, it had always sounded harsh, like the heat of midday during summer. 

TJ found himself glancing around the restaurant absent-mindedly, noticing Marty and Buffy at a table on the opposite side of the room. They were both laughing, seemingly making fun of one another, and he made a mental note to tease Marty when they got home about the obvious crush he seemed to have already developed on Buffy. 

He thought about it some more, conflict written all over his face, before turning back to Cyrus and relenting with a small shrug. 

“Okay,” he answered, almost not believing that word had actually left his mouth. He barely even let _Marty _call him Theo, let alone someone he barely knew. 

_What was he doing? _

Cyrus flashed him a beaming smile. “Great! You can call me whatever you want, then. Within reason of course.” 

TJ hummed thoughtfully. “What about...Cy?” 

“I was expecting much worse,” he said with a laugh, “so sure.” 

Cyrus held out a hand, and TJ blinked at him for a moment before accepting the handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Theo.” 

TJ could barely fight back a smile. “Nice to meet you too, Cy.” 

There was silence for a moment, then Cyrus was letting out a laugh. “We should probably order.” 

TJ looked down at his abandoned menu, shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah. Probably.” 

_Maybe this didn’t have to be the worst thing in the world. _

_Or maybe it did. _

_Who knows?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk why I always end up trying to give Marty a personality in all my chaptered fics (beyond running, liking Buffy and 'ohhh i get it - salt!') but ya know what? He deserves it. A bi, trans king. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys liked the chapter!! Comments/kudos are appreciated as always if you did <33


	5. Adding A Few Strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJ proposes a new boundary. It lasts all of one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly longer than usual so buckle up gamers!!
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter: mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of parental divorce

_August 19th, 2019_

Theo. 

Cyrus didn’t know exactly what it was about that name he liked so much. Maybe it was how soft it seemed in comparison to the way he’d always perceived TJ to be. Maybe it was the way it had instantly felt natural to him; like he’d never known TJ to be called anything else. 

Even now, when he thought of TJ he couldn’t help but think of the scowl he had always worn in the corridors at school, or the loud parties he’d always thrown (that he was never invited to, of course), or even the lingering smell of cigarette smoke that always seemed to follow him wherever he went. 

He certainly didn’t think of the name ‘Theo’, or of someone who would refuse an opportunity to drink. Well, that part he was assuming, but Marty’s lying had been relatively obvious to all of them last weekend. Cyrus didn’t think he’d ever see a day where _TJ _would be the one unwilling to drink rather than him, but then again, he’d also never imagined that they’d somehow become friends either. 

Well, maybe not friends. 

_Semi-friends? _

_Friends who were forced into a situation where they’d had to make a begrudging compromise? _

Something about that didn’t seem like friendship to Cyrus, but he almost didn’t mind. He didn’t mind that TJ wasn’t interested in a strings-attached friendship. He didn’t mind that TJ was now apparently calling him ‘Cy’ which was normally a nickname reserved for close friends. Deep down he felt a spark of worry, telling him that maybe he _should _care about the strange arrangement they’d set up for themselves. And maybe he didn’t care because being around TJ had turned from something that filled him with dread to something neutral; _tolerable _even.

Cyrus was so distracted by the thoughts swirling around in his head that he almost didn’t register the metal trailer door in front of him. He directed an awkward smile at the second assistant director, who turned around with an airy laugh and began to make his way towards another trailer. 

Apart from the peaceful clouds that sailed past, carried by the summer breeze, it was another relatively clear day. The blue that stretched above his head was soft and bright all at once, and the sun beamed down relentlessly as it had for the past few months. Cyrus, once again, pulled himself out of his thoughts and ascended the stairs, hesitantly pushing the door open to the make up trailer.

“Cyrus,” Mia greeted almost immediately, a warm smile gracing her lips. 

He couldn’t prevent a smile of his own from creeping onto his face. “Hey, Mia. How are you doing on this fine Monday?” 

Lining the benches there was an organised mess of brushes, powders and supplies, which Mia began to collect as Cyrus sat down. He placed his smoothie down beside him, glancing up at the woman as she made her way over.

“Same old, same old,” Mia hummed as she carefully began arranging the products. 

It was a relatively large trailer, with a row of mirrors that were all lined with bright lights, and cushy rotating chairs. In contrast to the deep red that filled Cyrus’ trailer, this one featured an array of light blues. Conor, the other makeup artist, looked up from his phone to give him a nod of acknowledgement. 

Mia paused in her actions for a moment, as though considering something. Cyrus reached over to take a sip of his smoothie, eyes looking up at her curiously. 

“I think I’ll do hair first today actually,” she decided after a moment’s delay, swivelling his chair around to face the mirror. 

He took the opportunity to pull out the mini sides he’d brought along with him, scanning over them for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning. Mia let out a short laugh upon seeing them, leaning over slightly to grab some hair spray. 

“You’re very dedicated, you know that?” 

Cyrus huffed at that, feigning a look of offence. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

Somehow, he always managed to grow attached to the makeup artists on set, and Mia wasn’t an exception. She had a smile so bright it lit up whatever room (or trailer) she was in, and she had no problem whatsoever running through lines with him. Cyrus couldn’t be more grateful.

When the trailer door swung open Cyrus had his suspicions about who it was, but when he heard an overexcited ‘hey, Cy!’ they were most definitely confirmed. 

Conor looked up from his phone again, eyes widened slightly in alarm, before getting up from his chair with a soft laugh and gathering up a few supplies. TJ moved past Cyrus’ chair, lips tugging up into a smile when he noticed the mini sides. 

“Hey Theo,” he returned, unable to keep the exasperation out of his tone, “you’re awfully enthusiastic for a Monday morning.” 

TJ’s smile just widened as he took the seat beside Cyrus, taking his (surprisingly normal-shaped) sunglasses off and placing them down on the bench. 

“And _you're _drinking a smoothie. Have we entered a parallel universe or what?”

Cyrus looked down at the mango smoothie in his hand with a slight shrug. Buffy had helped him figured out over the weekend that it was only really the _green _smoothies he was opposed to, and rightfully so. The taste of leaves wasn’t an appealing one in the slightest.

“Ha,” he remarked, drily. “If _this _is a parallel universe then they must be pretty boring.” 

He heard TJ let out an offended gasp. “Are you calling me boring?” 

Mia was struggling to contain a smile at this point, exchanging a glance with Conor as he approached TJ’s chair and set down a few hair-styling products. Cyrus realised quickly just how distracted he was getting, so he just shot TJ an innocent smile and continued flicking through his cards. 

He couldn’t resist a glance up after a few moments however, and he found that TJ was pouting into the mirror with his arms folded stubbornly over his chest. Cyrus lifted an eyebrow and lowered his gaze again, tone amused when he spoke up. 

“Can I help you?” 

“We’re not talking.” 

He scoffed slightly at those words, directing a small smile at Mia. This TJ Kippen really _was _worlds away from the boy he’d once been, and it was still messing with Cyrus’ head. 

“It’s not my fault you didn’t bring your lines to read over,” he said distractedly, skimming briefly over a few of TJ’s lines to see if he’d had any changes. 

“You know, I think there’s such a thing as knowing your lines _too _well,” came the playful response, which had Cyrus rolling his eyes. 

“Sounds like something someone who didn’t memorise their lines would say.” 

TJ turned in his chair to give Cyrus a glare and was promptly scolded by Conor, who had a smile on his face that seemed to suggest he wasn’t actually that annoyed. Cyrus decided against saying anything, smirking as he took another sip of his smoothie. 

They were both called to set after what seemed like mere minutes of having their make up done, and soon enough they were trailing behind the second assistant director as he led them to the row of vans that were parked inconspicuously by base camp. TJ glanced over at him, a slight smile on his lips.

“Change of scenery, huh?” 

Cyrus just shrugged. “I guess so. Think you’re ready for the scene?” 

“Of course I am. I’ve already got the fighting down. Wanna see?” 

He glanced over at the assistant director, who seemed slightly preoccupied with the call he was taking, before shrugging his shoulders. If TJ wanted to make an idiot out of himself, then who was Cyrus to stop him? 

“Sure, show me your fighting skills,” he nodded, “just don’t ruin your hair. Or your clothes.” 

Cyrus watched with raised eyebrows as TJ began throwing punches and kicks at the air, and suddenly he found himself regretting his words. He glanced around warily, wincing visibly when he noticed the lingering gazes of a few people near them. 

“Okay, okay, I believe you,” Cyrus insisted after a moment, and somehow his brain thought the best way to get TJ to stop would be to wrap his arms around him, effectively blocking him from moving. It worked, but it _also _had TJ looking down at him in alarm. 

“Did you just _hug _me to get me to stop?” 

Cyrus moved away almost immediately, wondering what on _earth _had gotten into him. They were walking further apart than they had been initially now, and TJ seemed to realise this because a frown appeared on his face.

“Hey, friends with no strings attached hug each other! Or at least, I think they do.” 

He looked over at TJ, who genuinely seemed to be _considering _whether friends without the strings attached were supposed to hug one another, and rolled his eyes. 

“It was the first idea that came to my head, let’s not overthink it.” 

TJ just shook his head though, ignoring the bewildered glances they received from the second assistant director as they approached one of the vans that were lined up. They all gleamed under the harsh sunlight, looking completely spotless despite the gravel beneath their feet, and Cyrus couldn’t help but feel impressed. 

“You know, I think we should set up some boundaries if we’re gonna do this,” said TJ. 

They were ushered into a particularly shiny-looking silver van, with the second assistant director informing them that the set was only a 5-minute drive away. Cyrus pulled his phone from his pocket, lifting his gaze for a moment to give TJ an amused look.

“So, no hugs then?” 

“No, no, hugs are fine,” TJ responded, “I’m more thinking along the lines of ‘no calling at 3 am crying’, you know?” 

Cyrus couldn’t help the short laugh that escaped him. “Okay then, duly noted. Did you seriously think I was gonna do that though?”

He shrugged, smiling ever so slightly. “I don’t know.” 

Cyrus reverted back to scrolling through emails after that, starring a few he’d come back to later and deleting others with brand deal offers he’d likely never take up. Seriously - who in their right mind would want _him _promoting their sports gear? 

The trip did end up being around 5 minutes, with TJ and Cyrus both thanking the driver as they climbed out and turned their attention to the imposing building that stood in front of them. 

“Hey, do you like rollerskating?” TJ asked him as they approached the large glass sliding doors. 

Cyrus threw him a confused glance. “Why?” 

He shrugged. “We’re friends now, right?” 

Although that didn’t fully answer the question pressing at Cyrus’ mind (_was he trying to invite him roller skating?_) he gave in with a laugh anyway.

“Okay. Well, I _do _like rollerskating. Do you?” 

TJ nodded, but didn’t have much time to respond any further because it took all of 10 seconds before they were being whisked away to have their makeup and clothes touched up. Despite the large open space, it still felt bustling with all of the crew that was working there. The ceilings and walls, which rose to an impressive height, were all pitch black. A large green screen was set up in front of the camera, and before long, Cyrus and TJ were joining the other actors in camera rehearsals. It took a long fifteen minutes of moving about, running a few lines, and adjusting the lighting before the director was happy with the way they’d blocked the scene, and they all remained in a nearby waiting room as some final touches were made. 

TJ, being the asshole he obviously was, decided to take the chair with Cyrus’ name on it, so naturally, _he _took the seat with _TJ’s _name on it. 

“So,” he began suddenly, which prompted to Cyrus look up and raise his eyebrows. “I now know that you like smoothies and rollerskating. Is there anything else I should know?” 

“_Mango _smoothies. Also, do you mean apart from all the stuff you’ve already gotten from my twitter?” he teased.

“Yeah, apart from that,” TJ conceded, smile tinged with the slightest amount of embarrassment. 

He spent a few moments wracking his brain for any other surface-level facts he had about his interests, but he came up completely blank. _What did he do in his spare time again? _

“Um,” he hesitated for a moment, “well...I guess you know Buffy now, but I also have another friend called Andi. She’s an artist.”

Shock flickered over TJ’s face, as though he’d been expected something along the lines of ‘here’s my favourite movie!’, but it was quickly replaced by a smile. 

“That’s cool. I have a sister back home named Amber. We live together with our cat.” 

“What’s your cat’s name?”

“Chérie,” TJ answered, smile turning sad, “I miss her already.” 

Okay, even _Cyrus _couldn’t pretend that name for a cat _wasn’t _adorable. 

“Well...I’m sure she misses you too.” 

When TJ offered to show him a few photos Cyrus couldn’t refuse, and his heart was almost completely melted by the end of it. 

He chanced a few glances up at TJ as he spoke, and a small smile flickered over his lips. 

Maybe he could live with being friends ‘without the strings attached.’

~

** _Andi: _ ** _just found out cute girl is straight_ _ :(( anyone down for clubbing tonight??_

** _Buffy: _ ** _Andi it’s Monday. _

** _Andi: _ ** _and?? _

Cyrus huffed out a laugh as he left his trailer, stepping out into the warm evening air. Dusk was fast approaching, with the sky painted various shades of red, and the chaos that filled base camp during the day had begun to wind down. A quiet peacefulness had settled in the air, and the harsh sun was no longer present to shine down on them. 

TJ was lingering by his trailer, tapping away at his phone, when Cyrus called out to him. 

“Hey, Theo!” 

He looked up immediately, lips curving up into a gentle smile as he approached. “Hey.”

Cyrus had an idea, and he honestly wasn’t sure if it was a good one. Before he could overthink it too much however, he was blurting the proposal out. 

“I think Andi, Buffy and I are going clubbing tonight. Wanna come with?” 

TJ’s smile flickered, and Cyrus couldn’t help but frown at the cheeriness that suddenly seemed to leave his expression. 

“I...actually can’t tonight, sorry.”

Cyrus was almost inclined to ask whether or not he even drank at all, but he stopped himself. 

“That’s fine! I’ll um...I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah,” TJ nodded, “definitely.” 

He’d be lying if he said the short walk to the site’s entrance wasn’t awkward, and he ended up feeling pretty thankful that they had to part ways. He made his way home, a pleasant breeze filtering through his hair, and soon enough he was collapsing down onto his hotel bed. 

This time, it wasn’t just his muscles that felt tired - his _brain _did too, from dealing with the confused whirlwind of emotions that had filled him throughout the day. He was completely and utterly stuck between _‘wait, TJ is actually nice to be around’ _and _‘TJ obviously doesn’t like him in the slightest and was only putting on an act.’ _In fact - _everything _about their friendship was an act, and he was struggling to accept that the thought created a sad pit in his stomach. 

Cyrus groaned and stuffed his face into one of the cool, silk pillows that were placed against the headboard of his bed. 

Outside, reds were fading into blues and stars began to dot the sky. Cyrus reluctantly lifted himself up at the sharp sound of his ringtone, eyes squinted as he accepted the call. 

“Cyrus!” came Andi’s muffled voice, and a small, involuntary smile began to tug at his lips as he moved towards his suitcase. 

“My darling Andi. What can I do for you?” he asked, trying to sound as composed as possible. He carefully began to sift through his clothes for something to wear. 

“We’re picking you up in like ten. Is that okay?” 

On any other day those words would’ve been absolutely world-ending to Cyrus, who had to spend at _least _thirty minutes deciding on a shirt before he was satisfied, but he really didn’t have the energy to care on that particular night. 

“Yup, that’s fine,” he agreed, and although he couldn’t see her he knew Andi was smiling.

“Great, I’ll see you then. Love you!” 

“Love you too,” Cyrus mumbled, lowering his phone after a moment with a huffed laugh. It only took about two minutes of sifting before he settled on a shirt and jean combo, throwing the clothes on and adjusting his hair slightly in the mirror. It wasn’t his best look by any means, but given how exhausted he felt at that moment, he thought it had to be at least somewhat acceptable.

Andi and Buffy were all smiles when they knocked on his door, ushering him to the elevator and down to the car park. He honestly thought for a moment that he might need some coffee to keep up with him.

Storefronts blurred into one long strip of light as they drove, burning bright against the pitch dark night. 

The trio arrived at a bustling street, with the sounds of cars and people seemingly competing against one another to see who could generate the most amount of noise. Cyrus began to feel slightly more awake as they navigated the crowds, walking by a few swaying palm trees. He kept tight hold of Andi’s hand, knowing well that he had an unfortunate tendency to lose his friends completely amongst crowds. 

The bouncer, despite looking rather imposing with his height and the various tattoos that covered his skin, let them in without any hassle. If Cyrus had felt even an ounce of tiredness, he definitely didn’t any upon entering the bar, with pulsing music drilling into his ears, and the shrieking sounds of drunken laughter filling the air. He straightened his shirt slightly and followed Andi and Buffy as they fought their way over to the bar, ordering a few things that Cyrus couldn’t make out. 

Body heat was practically radiating from the swarms of dancing people, and Cyrus found himself feeling thankful he’d decided upon just wearing a shirt. They all settled against a nearby wall, downing their drinks and watching as the masses seemed to grow larger and larger by the minute. Cyrus, for once, felt anxiousness began to creep up on him the more he drank. Instead of feeling his muscles relax as they usually did, they seemed to tense instead. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on it, but he could a distinct feeling of dread had begun to form inside him.

He swallowed, not liking the feeling in the slightest.

“I’m gonna go get another drink!” he called, thinking that maybe he’d developed a sudden tolerance to alcohol. 

Buffy and Andi both nodded, before falling back into the conversation they were having. Cyrus (politely) made his way through the crowds again, ordering a shot of vodka this time. He received a slightly strange look in return, which turned into one of bewilderment as the man watched him accept the glass and down in it an instant, resulting in a small coughing fit. 

Everything felt wrong. _But why? _He’d developed a liking for coming to clubs like this and dancing his heart out the entire night, but on that night the music was jarring, _unbearable _even, and the intensity of it all felt like too much. 

His phone lit up with an incoming call, joining the various flashing lights that filled the club, and his heart sank right down to the ground. 

_It was his mom._

_His fucking mom was calling him. _

Cyrus immediately began to push his way through the crowds again, feeling panic and dread and everything else he’d been repressing bubble up to the surface all at once. The music was too loud, the heat was too much, and he really, _really _needed to get out before he lost it. 

The cool air outside hit him in one big gust, and suddenly he felt like he could breathe again, at least somewhat. He rounded the corner of a nearby alleyway, cloaked by darkness as he accepted the call with fumbling fingers.

“Mom?” he spoke up immediately, voice unnaturally high. 

It took Cyrus all of five seconds to realise she was completely and utterly wasted, speech slurred beyond recognition. He let out a trembling breath, quickly ending the call, before running a hand through his hair and leaning up against the cracked brick behind him. He remained there for a moment, chest rising and falling as though he’d just run a marathon. 

_This _is what he’d left her to become. 

He buried his face in his hands, feeling his throat begin to close up. 

After years and years of worrying about how his mom was doing, now he finally knew. She wasn’t doing any better than she had been when he left. When he’d left her there alone. He almost wished he didn’t know, despite how selfish that probably was. 

_Maybe she was doing better, _a hopeful voice in his head piped up, _maybe that was only a once-off. _

He thought back to his mom’s behaviour throughout his teenage years, and with a heavy sigh realised that there was almost no way it could be a once-off. There was no moderation whatsoever when it came to her after all; it was either all or nothing, and that’s the way it’d always been. 

The thought of disrupting Buffy and Andi’s night made him feel even _more _sick than he already felt, so he firmly decided against that. He mindlessly began scrolling through his contacts, not exactly knowing what he was looking for. 

_Company? A ride home? Both? _

There was always the option of taking a cab, and Cyrus didn’t feel like having a breakdown in front of some stranger. 

He stopped scrolling when TJ’s name came up, heart thumping away in his chest. He’d given him his number at that burger restaurant last weekend, and the thought alone had a tiny smile ghosting over his lips. 

Cyrus bit his lip. TJ was one of the few friends he had that was currently anywhere near him after all, but what about the rule they’d set up just that morning? He supposed it wasn’t exactly 3 am yet, but he was having a slight breakdown and that would definitely go beyond the careful line they’d drawn between them, the one that stopped right where ‘emotional stuff’, as TJ put it, began. 

Everything was blurring together, his mind was feeling muddled from the alcohol he would feel flowing through him, and for a split second he thought_‘screw it’, _tapping the call icon. 

Before he could register the regret that appeared inside of him TJ was picking up, as though he’d been on his phone anyway. Cyrus let out a breath. 

“Hey, Cy! What’s up?” 

He swallowed hard, very seriously considering ending the call, but something stopped him. 

“Hey! Um...not much, I just...” he hesitated, nervousness bubbling up inside of him, “this is gonna sound dumb, and it _is_, and it’s way beyond the whole ‘no strings attached’ thing we have going on, but...um...I really don’t wanna be at this club anymore, and I don’t wanna drag Buffy and Andi out because I’d feel bad, but I really _can’t _be here anymore and I just...actually you know what? Never mind, I’m sorry I-“

“Send me your location,” TJ interrupted, and Cyrus was having a hard time trying to determine the emotions that tone betrayed. “I’ll pick you up.” 

He hung up after that, and Cyrus was left feeling a mixture of both shock and confusion. Somehow, he managed to get his fingers to cooperate enough to send TJ his location, and he received a text in return telling him he’d be right over. 

Trying desperately to push down the thought that this _had _to be some kind of nightmare, he sent both Andi and Buffy quick texts explaining that he wasn’t feeling up to clubbing that night. 

In a matter of thirty minutes, TJ was sending him the location of a nearby street that wasn’t nearly as packed as the one he was on currently, and Cyrus began to make his way over. Cool air was blowing through his hair, which he knew was likely roughed up from the number of times he’d run his hands through it. 

The car was a shiny black, blending almost perfectly into the darkness, and Cyrus would’ve genuinely walked past by accident if it weren’t for his phone. He approached hesitantly, and the window rolled down.

“You called a cab?” asked TJ, voice light, and Cyrus couldn’t help but laugh as he opened the car door and climbed inside, closing it again with a metallic-sounding thud. 

Neither of them said anything for a moment, then TJ was speaking again, softer now.

“Are you okay?” 

Cyrus flushed slightly at those words, embarrassed now that he’d calmed down, and decided on just shrugging his shoulders. 

TJ nodded. “Well, um...did you wanna come back to my place? I mean, it’s technically not my place, it’s Marty’s, but-“

“That’d be nice,” Cyrus interrupted, offering him a smile. 

He was far too tired to question what the hell had gotten into him. 

“Okay, cool.” 

The small talk that TJ made as they cruised down the streets of L.A. was downright painful, but Cyrus was honestly just glad they weren’t talking about _him_, or the phone call. 

The clock read 11:30 pm by the time TJ found a spot in the underground parking. Darkness surrounded them, kept at bay only by a few flickering lights, and Cyrus found himself subconsciously moving in closer to TJ as they approached the elevator. 

“Will Marty mind?” he asked quietly as the elevator slowly made its way down towards them.

“Nah,” said TJ, almost instantly, “and...I was kind of hoping I could show you a different part of the building? If that’s okay?” 

Cyrus hesitated for a moment, glancing over at him curiously, before relenting with a small shrug. This night already seemed surreal anyway, and at that point he was pretty content with just going with the flow of things. 

The elevator rumbled to a stop, the doors parting automatically to let them through. TJ stepped in first, leaning back against the mirror covered wall as Cyrus followed suit. He pressed the button for a floor that seemed pretty high, and it lit up a pale yellow. 

“This apartment building seems pretty nice,” he commented, voice tinged with awkwardness. 

TJ laughed slightly. “Yeah. His parents are loaded so they have connections to the people that run it. It’s the only reason he managed to move here so young.” 

Cyrus nodded, and another silence fell as they ascended through levels. Finally, after what seemed like longer than it probably was, he felt it come to a stop. 

He stepped out onto the red carpet, eyes darting between various rooms. TJ joined him moments later, throwing him a small smile.

“Is this the top floor?” he questioned. 

He got another smile in response. “Almost.” 

Cyrus didn’t question that as he began to make his way down the hallway, although he was beginning to feel slightly nervous at the prospect of ascending another level. They walked until they reached the end of the corridor, where a staircase was tucked away that seemed to lead up to-

“We’re going on the roof?!” Cyrus whisper-yelled, trying to keep the fear out of his tone, “are we even allowed?” 

TJ just grinned, producing a set of keys from his pocket and jingling them slightly. “Like I said, Marty’s parents have connections.” 

Cyrus remained there for a moment, totally rooted to the spot, and TJ’s expression softened. He stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“We’re allowed, okay? Marty checked, I swear.” 

He hesitated, before swallowing hard and giving a quick nod. There was something about the comforting smile on TJ’s lips that made Cyrus want to trust him. 

Trailing cautiously behind, he watched as TJ ascended the stairs and used the key carefully to ensure he generated the least amount of noise possible. Cyrus’ heart was racing in his chest, and he felt somewhat on the verge of passing out, but he pressed on regardless. 

TJ pushed the door open, stepping out onto the roof, and Cyrus followed, closing the door behind him. The air seemed about ten times cooler than it had previously, despite it being summer in L.A. There was bare concrete beneath their feet, and two large water tanks in the corner clouded by darkness. 

Cyrus noticed the metal railing that lined the edge of the building almost immediately, and he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “If other people can’t come up here, then why are those there?”

TJ gave a shrug. “For the maintenance people, I guess.” 

He nodded, stepping forward hesitantly to take in the view they had. It wasn’t an overly large building, L.A. didn’t have the towering buildings that a place like New York did, but the elevation still gave them a decent view of the lights that filled the city, burning against the dark night sky. 

TJ sat down and Cyrus followed suit, ensuring there was some space between them. He placed his palms down against the cool concrete and leaned back, appreciating the quiet after having been in that stifling club. 

Distantly, he could hear the bustling sounds of cars sailing past and people chattering away, but everything seemed so far removed up there, as though he was wearing headphones that were _almost _noise-cancelling, but not quite. 

A silence settled between them, although this one seemed slightly more comfortable than the one in the elevator. 

“I saw you the night you left, you know?” 

Cyrus’ heart jumped at those words. He looked over at TJ in slight alarm, only to find that he was gazing pointedly out at the sky. 

“I know,” he said eventually, “I saw you too.”

Silence. 

TJ paused, hands fidgeting nervously. “Why _did _you leave?”

“I don’t think that’s a ‘no strings attached’ question, Theo,” Cyrus replied, tone laced with amusement. 

TJ huffed a laugh. “Yeah. I guess not.” 

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then-

“Maybe we could um...” he hesitated, taking in a deep breath, “maybe we could add a few strings?” he suggested, uncertainly.

Cyrus looked down at his hands. Why wasn’t he opposed to that idea? Why did that idea actually sound _good _to him?

“I think that would just leave us as friends,” he said, testing the waters. 

TJ shuffled slightly so that he was facing Cyrus. “Would that be so bad?” 

_No, _Cyrus thought to himself, somewhat hysterically, _it really didn’t sound bad at all, and that was the problem. _

Did it _have _to be a problem though?

“No,” he responded softly after a moment’s delay, and a smile broke out on TJ’s face, as though he’d been waiting for that word from the moment they’d gotten up there. 

“Okay then.” 

Cyrus looked away then, unable to maintain eye contact. 

“I left Shadyside because I wanted to become an actor, and I thought L.A. could help me do that. But, I also left because...” he paused, letting out a breath, “when I was fourteen my parents split up, and it was hard on both of them but...it was _really _hard on my mom. She just spiralled, and I didn’t know what to do. She got fired for missing too many days from work, and then the drinking started and she couldn’t stop, and she couldn’t afford therapy. It got the point where she was drunk more than she was sober, and it started to feel like I just didn’t even _have _a mom anymore. I looked after myself, which was okay, but when my eighteenth birthday rolled around I just...couldn’t be there anymore. That probably sounds bad, but-“ 

“I get it,” TJ assured him gently, and Cyrus had almost forgotten that someone was listening to him. Embarrassment crashed down on him all at once, and he couldn’t bring himself to even _look _at TJ as he continued, the words escaping before he was able to stop them.

“I’ve called her a bunch since then but I’ve never gotten any response. Then...then tonight she called and she was,” he shook his head, absolutely despising the fact that he could feel tears pricking at his eyes, “she was gone. Like - completely wasted. And _I'm _the one who left her to spiral even more than she already was.”

A few tears were beginning to slip down his cheeks, and he knew his hair was probably screwed up at that point. He hoped to god that TJ couldn’t see how much of a mess he had become amongst the darkness. 

“God,” he managed, standing up from his spot, “we’ve only been friends for like two seconds and I’m already oversharing.” 

Cyrus stepped up to the railing, harshly rubbing at his face. He heard TJ stand up behind him.

Hesitant footsteps sounded against the concrete, and before he knew it TJ was standing by his side, holding out his jacket. Cyrus couldn’t help but laugh despite the tears clinging to his face.

“I’m not cold, it's fine.” 

A particularly strong gust of wind breezed by then, bringing with it a new round of shivers. TJ raised a challenging eyebrow, and Cyrus let out a huff before begrudgingly accepting the jacket, tugging it over his shoulders. They both looked out at the sky for a few quiet moments.

“You can’t keep blaming yourself for how your mom is doing, Cy.” 

He looked down at that, swallowing the lump in his throat, and TJ moved in closer, wrapping an arm around him. Cyrus‘ first instinct was to move away, but his _second _instinct was to rest his head on TJ’s shoulder, so that’s what he ended up doing. 

“I know,” Cyrus said softly, “it’s just...I have to do _something_.” 

_“_And you _can_, but let’s not think about that tonight, okay? You’ll have a clearer head in the morning.” 

Cyrus nodded, offering him a watery smile. He knew deep down that TJ was right, even though he’d struggle to keep that phone call off his mind. 

“Can I keep this jacket?” he asked suddenly, in an attempt to change the subject.

“Awww,” TJ cooed, giving his shoulder a playful tap, “to mark our friendship? I knew you were sentimental deep down.” 

“Well, I was thinking I could sell it on eBay but yeah, that works too,” Cyrus grinned, earning himself an offended gasp. 

“Now that there are some strings attached in this friendship, I deem that a betrayal, Cyrus Goodman.” 

“...So you’re telling me I lost my window to sell your jacket on eBay?” 

“Yes. Yes you did,” TJ answered, smile amused. 

They both lingered there for a moment longer, smiling to themselves. TJ turned around, heading back over to the door. 

“Let’s get some food!” 

Cyrus hurried after him, feeling oddly calm in comparison to how he’d felt stepping out onto the roof. 

He was now officially friends with the resident bad boy of Shadyside, and for some reason, he was perfectly at peace with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I was kind of nervous about posting this chapter for some reason (hence the slight delay) but I'm glad I did and I hope it was okay!! <33


	6. Lights...Camera...Action!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJ and Marty get a visitor. TJ has an idea about how they can spend their day off.
> 
> Chapter warnings: mentions of alcohol abuse and addiction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here's another chapter to make up for the fact that I probably won't be able to write again until next weekend <33

_August 21st, 2019 _

TJ awoke that morning feeling significantly more groggy than he did normally, bleary eyes squinting due to the bright morning light that seeped in through the cracks of his blinds. He took a moment or two to just lay there, basking in the quiet, before he was hit by the distinct sounds of Marty’s laughter. Normally he would’ve brushed that off given Marty’s tendency to laugh at his own jokes, but the voice that _followed _said laughter was undoubtedly Cyrus’. His heart jumped, and he grabbed a random shirt to tug over his head, exiting his room as he did so. The bitter smell of burnt toast filled the air, and a wince twisted his features as he stepped out into the living room. 

Cyrus was sat up on the counter, legs dangling, while Marty seemed to be chopping something up on a cutting board. It was even brighter in the kitchen, with the window drawn right open, and TJ had to take another few moments to adjust. Outside, the sky was a bright blue and the sun was already high up, beaming down on the people below as they went about their morning. The typical sounds of traffic, accompanied now by the music playing from Marty’s phone, filled the apartment. 

For a few brief seconds, TJ’s gaze was fixed on the sight. It just seemed so _comfortable_, and Cyrus seemed to slot right into the space like a puzzle piece that was always meant to be there. It almost seemed _too _comfortable, given that they’d only been speaking for a few weeks now, but TJ tried not to dwell on the thought. 

They were friends now. And miraculously enough, TJ was okay with that. He didn’t think at first that friendship was what he wanted when it came to Cyrus, but receiving that phone call had made his stomach twist in a way he wasn’t used to. It was the moment he’d realised he wanted Cyrus Goodman to be nothing but happy for the rest of his days.

He approached the counter, placing his hands down on the cool marble. Marty turned to face him immediately, drawing Cyrus’ attention to him too. 

“Hey, Sugarplum!” Marty grinned.

TJ levelled him a withering look, before moving around the counter towards the coffee machine. He leaned up to grab a mug from the top cupboard, turning back around casually once he’d replaced the coffee grounds and pressed the start button. 

“Hey,” he said, earning him a laugh from both of them. His voice was rough with sleep even to his own ears. 

“That was just a tad delayed,” Marty nodded, as he continued slicing the avocado halves he had on his board. 

TJ directed his focus towards Cyrus, who offered him a hesitant wave. A small smile appeared on his face.

“Not that I don’t absolutely adore your company Cy, but why would you _willingly _drag yourself out of bed before 8 am on the only day this week that we don’t have any scenes to shoot?” he asked, stifling a yawn. 

Cyrus’ face flushed at those words, which had TJ’s eyebrows raising ever so slightly. Despite seeming like someone who was at least a little nervous at all times, Cyrus rarely, if _ever_, blushed at anything. Marty looked between them for a moment, smiling slightly, before returning to his task of carefully placing avocado slices on toast. TJ could only assume that he’d made more, because these ones weren’t blackened. 

“Buffy and Andi have stuff to do today,” he explained, “so I thought why not bother you for the day?” 

TJ gave a short laugh. “I feel honoured.” 

As Marty began transferring the avocado toast to three separate plates, he shot TJ another grin. “Cyrus was just telling me about your transition from ‘friends without the strings attached’ to friends,” he said, earning him an exasperated groan from TJ. 

“After all we’ve been through, Cy?” he questioned, to which Cyrus gave a laugh.

“I’m sorry! It just slipped out!” 

Marty gave both of them smirks as he placed the plates down on the rounded table that stood where the kitchen met the living room. “Friends without the strings attached, Teej? _Really? _And agreeing to that, Cyrus? _Really?_” 

“Yeah, yeah, not everyone is immune to my charm, you know?” TJ told him as he grabbed his steaming mug of coffee and moved across the kitchen to sit down. 

“I’m perfectly immune to your nonexistent charm, thank you,” Cyrus piped up as he took the seat beside him. “Also - thanks, Marty, you’re the best.” 

Marty paused by the sink to give Cyrus a fond look, and TJ knew almost instantly that he really _did _like having Cyrus around. He’d always worn his heart on his sleeve, which was great in terms of figuring out when he was upset but terrible in terms of trying to lie about or hide literally anything. TJ on the other hand, liked to bottle things up until they inevitably exploded, or at least - he tried to, anyway. He wasn’t the best at lying either.

“Yeah, thanks Marty,” he added after a few moments, and the boy just waved him off. 

TJ’s phone vibrated in his pocket, giving him a near heart attack, and he quickly pulled it out to turn it to silent. There was an email notification there, and a slight smile appeared on his face when he saw it was from the second assistant director. Cyrus seemed to have gotten a similar email because he was looking down at his phone too now.

“It’s the scene we’re shooting tomorrow,” he spoke up, and Marty’s face visibly brightened as he sat down opposite them. 

“Is it romantic? Can I read it?” he asked, and TJ huffed a laugh. 

“I mean, I’d probably be breaching about seven contracts, but sure. Just don’t go telling everyone you know.” 

Marty nodded eagerly as he accepted TJ’s phone, eyes skimming quickly over the lines. Cyrus lifted an eyebrow as he read, a smile beginning to tug on his lips.

“Very strong gay undertones with this one.” 

TJ couldn’t help but laugh as he took a bite of his toast. If someone had asked him a few weeks ago what shooting romantic scenes with Cyrus was like, he would’ve told them it was tolerable. Now however, it had actually become _fun_, and the director had told them this had become apparent on screen too. 

Marty began acting out a few of the lines in a manner that was hilariously bad. 

“You’re cute when you’re trying to be annoyed,” he read out.

“I _am _annoyed!” said Cyrus, turning his gaze towards TJ as though expecting him to continue. 

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. His (100% certified) method of memorising lines was very much different to Cyrus’. Particularly in that it involved waiting until the last second and getting away with it every time.

“Bold of you to assume I’ve memorised any of these lines.”

Cyrus let out an amused huff. “Right. Probably should’ve seen that coming.” 

Once they’d all finished their toast TJ ended up collapsing down on the couch, wracking his brain for something he could do with Cyrus that day. The idea struck him almost instantly, and it had a smile lighting up his face as he straightened in his seat and looked towards the kitchen, where Marty was talking with Cyrus. 

“Let’s go on a hike! I’ve been wanting to for a while now, anyway.” 

Cyrus turned to stare at him for a moment, as though fully expecting him to laugh and say ‘sike!’ Soon enough, the realisation that TJ wasn’t joking swept visibly over his face.

He shook his head. “Absolutely not. Physical activity and I don’t mix.” 

A pout began to form on TJ’s lips. “You’re literally shooting an action movie!” 

“Exactly! Are you really gonna make me do even _more _activity than I currently have to?” 

TJ didn’t have many arguments to fall back on after that, so he decided on just maintaining his pout. Marty began to busy himself with washing up the plates, glancing back at the pair in amusement. Eventually, when Cyrus began to grow tired of the staring competition they’d struck up, he slumped his shoulders with a sigh. 

“Fine. We can go on a hike. However! You owe me a mango smoothie, it can’t be any more than exactly 3.5 miles, it has to have a paved trail and we have to go around sunset so I don’t die of heatstroke. Got it?” 

A grin immediately broke out on TJ’s face. He nodded eagerly and began googling for easy hike trails they could complete around L.A. After ruling out a majority of the ones he came across for varying reasons (closing too early, not enough shade, too popular), he came across a coastal trail that with a paved pathway that was relatively quiet towards the evening, if the reviews were anything to go by. 

“What about this one?” he asked, prompting Cyrus to come over and sit down beside him.

“3 miles, nice view of the beach, paved trail, and only a 40-minute drive from here. According to the website, it features ‘an elaborate network of trails covering beautiful ocean-facing hillsides, canyons, and ridges.’” he read out, adopting a dramatic tone, and Cyrus smiled.

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Great!” TJ cheered, setting down his phone, “that’s what we’re doing then! Although, I’m not sure if jeans and a button-up shirt are the best hiking clothes,” he continued, looking down at Cyrus’ outfit with a slight wince. 

Marty piped up from the kitchen. “He can borrow some of my gear!”

Cyrus threw him an accusatory look. “That could’ve been my ticket to _not _going hiking, Marty!” 

TJ couldn’t help but laugh.

_He could definitely get used to this. _

~

The day went by in a warm haze of random Netflix movies, smoothies, and running a few lines from their script here and there. Marty went about with his work, and TJ found himself feeling grateful that his room was soundproof, because otherwise he _definitely _would’ve been distracted by his and Cyrus’ loud talking from the living room. 

As 3 pm approached, they began getting ready for their hike. Marty dug up a small backpack for them to fill with sunscreen, water and various snacks, insisting that the sun was still out so they could still burn. Outside, the temperature was beginning to drop, and the sunlight now resembled a warm, shimmering gold. The sky was still a brilliant blue, clearer than it had been earlier that morning. 

TJ felt a small spark of excitement fill his chest as he crossed the carpark with Cyrus, their footsteps and voices echoing slightly. It was a lot cooler down there, and sunlight fell only where it could reach near the entrance, leaving relative darkness otherwise. 

Hanging out with Cyrus over the past few hours already felt about ten times more natural than it had previously. He didn’t feel the need to hold back anymore now that they were officially friends, and maintaining his cool exterior had taken a back seat. Cyrus seemed a lot more relaxed now too, as though he wasn’t so scared of letting down his guard, and it was shocking to him just how much he liked things being this way. He _liked _the fact that Cyrus didn’t hesitate before he spoke, wondering if he’d be crossing a boundary, he _liked _the way Cyrus laughed now, completely uninhibited, and he _liked _being the one to make him laugh. 

He liked being friends with Cyrus, and a part of him felt regretful that he hadn’t discovered this sooner. Maybe it would’ve saved him from the hell his teenage years had been. 

TJ paused when they reached Marty’s car, turning to Cyrus. “Hey, can I have your phone for a second?” 

His eyebrows furrowed slightly with confusion, but he handed it over regardless. TJ stepped back, out of reach, and entered the passcode he’d seen Cyrus type in earlier that day.

“What are you doing?” Cyrus asked, eyes narrowed sceptically, and TJ bit his lip to contain a smile. 

“Nothing.” 

Cyrus gave him a disbelieving look, advancing forward and peering over to see TJ had entered settings. 

His eyes widened with realisation. “You wanna turn off auto caps!”

“Your tweets give me a headache!” TJ justified, laughing as he held up the phone out of Cyrus’ reach. He grabbed onto TJ’s arms, attempting to pull them back down, and eventually it turned into a full-blown chase. Their footsteps reverberated loudly off the walls as they hit the concrete, and TJ ended up surrendering the phone _purely _because he wanted to make sure they didn’t run out of time for their hike. 

“Okay,” he panted, as they made their way over the car again, Cyrus’ face bright with a triumphant grin. “Middle school moment over. You get to keep your auto caps.” 

He agreed to let Cyrus chose the music after some pleading, and as they exited the parking lot to joined the traffic outside, The Neighbourhood was blasting through the car speakers.

TJ huffed out a laugh. “The Neighbourhood? Maybe you _do _have taste.” 

Cyrus threw him an eye roll. “I feel like I should be offended.” 

Once they were able to navigate their way out of the busier metropolitan areas, a peaceful stillness began to settle around them. The sun continued to lower in the sky, bringing with it a pool of various reds and pinks. 40 minutes flew by as though they were nothing, and soon enough they arrived at a gravel parking lot by the park boundary. 

The air was pleasantly warm when they stepped out, taking a moment to admire their surroundings. They were at the higher end of the park, with a trail descending down towards the ocean. There were trees interspersed along sandy hillsides, with dark green shrubbery covering a large majority of the ground. Salty ocean breeze reached them even from where they stood, accompanied by the distant sounds of waves crashing at shore. 

TJ and Cyrus exchanged a glance as they headed over to the trailhead, both still admiring the stillness that seemed to surround them as dusk approached. 

“Maybe this wasn’t the worst idea,” Cyrus admitted quietly, and TJ let out a laugh, feeling a weird comfort wash over him. 

They began to make their way down the trail, descending towards the bright blue ocean. Cyrus took a few photos as they went, remaining relatively silent for the first few minutes. 

“What did you think of me in high school?” he asked suddenly, the question escaping before he could think twice about it. 

Cyrus looked over in alarm, lowering his phone. He took a few moments to think about it. 

“Well...I thought you were an asshole.” 

TJ laughed. “That’s fair.” 

“But,” Cyrus hesitated, looking down, “I also thought you seemed lonely.” 

His smile faded slightly. “Oh,” was all he could bring himself to say, because _yeah_, he had been lonely. It was around that time when he’d first started hanging around Reed and his friends, drifting slightly from Marty, who insisted they were all bad news. But he didn’t care. In fact - he didn’t really care much about anything back then, except for Amber, and making sure she was okay. Of course, he’d come to his senses towards the end of high school and started hanging out more with Marty again, but he still felt a pang of guilt as he thought about the distance he’d put between them in the first place, all in the name of having access to alcohol. 

“That’s in the past though,” Cyrus added in a hurry, as though reading his mind, “now you’re...” 

TJ’s smile picked up again. “Now I’m what?” 

Cyrus just shook his head, leaning over to give his shoulder a playful swat.

“You’re nice, I guess, and you know...fun to be around most of the time.” 

TJ raised a hand to his chest in mock offence. “I’m fun to be around _most _of the time?” 

“That’s all you’re getting!” Cyrus insisted, laughter carried slightly by the wind, and TJ just gave a fond eye roll. 

They continued to make their way down, conversations interspersed between comfortable silences, and when they’d almost reached the fence that would prevent them from travelling any further TJ came to a sudden halt. Cyrus stopped too, turning around to face him. 

The last remnants of light were beginning to fade now, leaving darkness in its wake. The sounds of crashing waves had become more distinct now, filling the salty air around them. 

“We should practise our lines for that scene tomorrow.” 

Cyrus laughed slightly. “Now?” 

“No time like the present!” came TJ’s cheery response. 

He seemed to consider the offer for a moment, before relenting with a shrug and moving forward. “Okay then. But we’re _not _reenacting the part where Noah lifts Miles up. Got it?” 

“Got it,” TJ nodded. 

Cyrus’ expression brightened slightly as he moved to stand behind him, and TJ had to take a moment or two to wipe the smile off his face in preparation. 

“Lights...camera...action!” announced Cyrus.

TJ scoffed slightly at that, but was able to quickly school his expression again. 

“Noah, if we take another step I might die. Do you wanna have a death on your hands?”

He turned around at those words, expression amused. “We’re not even halfway yet. Besides - Sam needs us over there.”

Cyrus let out an aggressive sigh, stopping for a moment to fan himself. “We couldn’t have just taken a car?”

“Does this path look like it’s big enough for a car? We can’t risk getting caught,” said TJ, voice stern but somehow still amused. 

Cyrus folded his arms stubbornly over his chest, and TJ let out an airy laugh, pretending to adjust the large bag of supplies he was supposed to be carrying.

“You’re cute when you’re trying to be annoyed.”

“I _am _annoyed!” Cyrus insisted. 

“Okay,” came the amused response. 

TJ hesitated for a moment, expression faltering. “Should we end it there or should I just pretend to pick you up?” 

Cyrus stilled for a moment, carefully considering the words. He glanced around warily, before turning his gaze towards TJ again.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but...you can lift me up. If you want.” 

TJ’s face brightened at that, and he took a moment or two to get back into character. 

“I _am _annoyed!” Cyrus exclaimed again, answering TJ’s question before it could even leave his mouth. 

“Okay,” he said again, lips curving up into a fond smile as he moved forward and scooped Cyrus up into his arms. They’d done this on set before, so he was able to do it with relative ease.

“Noah!” Cyrus laughed slightly, looking up at him with an expression so soft that TJ thought for a moment they were _actually _on set, acting this out. 

“Miles!” he imitated. 

There was a pause, then Cyrus was resting his head softly against TJ’s chest

“You know what actually? This is okay. I can live with this.” 

TJ laughed. “Let’s go then. If we’re late and we end up ruining the plan, I’m blaming you.” 

“Hey - _you’re _the one that picked me up!” 

They lingered like that for a moment or two, and TJ lasted all of two seconds before breaking character and bursting into laughter, gently setting Cyrus down on the ground. Cyrus shook his head, laughing slightly too. 

“This is gonna be interesting,” he remarked.

“Definitely,” TJ agreed, “but hey - we’ve been doing this for years now. I believe in us.” 

“You believe in our ability to stare longingly into one another’s eyes and keep a straight face?” Cyrus questioned as they continued to make their way down the final part of the main trail.

“100 per cent,” TJ nodded.

The walk back to the trailhead was relatively uneventful. Cyrus ran ahead a few times, his bright smile lit up by the moonlight, and surprisingly enough _TJ _was the one struggling to keep up at certain points. Cyrus, who was usually so calculating in everything he did, was running and laughing like he was in high school again. TJ didn’t necessarily think that Cyrus seemed on edge usually, but if _this _is what he was like when he was actually relaxed, he couldn’t help but wonder what Cyrus felt like normally. 

Everything felt so far removed, and they were alone, surrounded by nothing but sandy hillsides and rough ocean waves. He didn’t think a single question would be responsible for sending his mood crashing. 

“Sorry if this is personal, you don’t have to say if you don’t want to, but um...do you not drink? I just thought - if you don’t, then I’ll stop inviting you out for drinks, you know?” 

TJ tensed up immediately, and he _hated _the fact that the mere mention of alcohol was enough to send his thoughts spiralling. He had no idea what to say. He didn’t want to give himself away, but he didn’t want to lie either. 

“I...” he hesitated, looking anywhere but Cyrus, “um...not really no,” he settled on saying.

_Yeah. Because you can’t even handle one drink without losing it and drinking until you either pass out or throw up. Then repeating it uncontrollably until you take it too far. _

It was the emotional equivalent of having an ice bucket tipped over his head, and TJ was so caught up that he barely registered Cyrus was speaking. 

“Earth to Theo?” 

He tuned back into the world around him, lifting his gaze to meet Cyrus’ then quickly looking away again. “Sorry, what was that?” 

Cyrus’ eyebrows were drawn together in confusion now, and TJ wanted to kick himself for being so obvious. 

“Um...I was just saying I won’t invite you out for drinks anymore, then...or to clubs.” 

TJ nodded, forcing a smile. “Thanks.” 

The car drive felt so ridiculously tense that TJ was on the verge of losing it, unknowingly tightening his grip on the steering wheel the whole way. 

He hated the fact that he couldn’t drink casually. He hated the fact that he couldn’t go out clubbing with Marty, or Amber, or Cyrus, or _anyone _because he couldn’t control himself. He hated the fact that he was still so affected by what happened all those years ago, he hated that he still got flashbacks sometimes. He hated that he still had to refuse events just because the alcohol there would be too tempting, he hated that he missed out on opportunities to hang out with friends as a result. Most importantly, he hated that he couldn’t just let it all go. 

Cyrus had all of his things on him, so TJ dropped him off directly at his hotel. They were in a carpark similar to the one beneath Marty’s apartment building, and TJ wanted to say something, _anything_, as Cyrus climbed out of the car but his throat had closed up and he just _couldn’t_. 

“Thanks for today, TJ...I hope you’re okay,” he said, so softly it was almost a whisper.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he managed, trying his hardest to smile. 

The car door closed behind him with an echoing thud. TJ remained there for a few moments, listening as Cyrus’ footfalls grew distant. Then, he was hurriedly pushing the car door open and stepping out, no clue whatsoever what he was doing. 

“Wait - Cyrus!” 

Cyrus turned around, expression smoothed out with shock, and TJ approached hesitantly. 

“I’m really sorry,” he rushed out, “I, it’s just-“

Cyrus stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on his arm, smiling cautiously. “You don’t have to explain. I’m here if you ever wanna talk, okay?” 

TJ swallowed, before giving a quick nod. 

“Goodnight, Theo,” he said softly, before turning around to walk away again. 

~

TJ could confidently say that the most reassuring thing for him to hear when he finally entered Marty’s apartment that night was Amber’s voice, sounding from Marty’s phone, and he immediately dropped everything to rush over. In the window’s reflection, even _he _was able to tell just how much of a mess he was.

Marty glanced up, an eyebrow raised slightly in question. “Um, I think TJ wants to talk to you.” 

He heard a laugh, followed by a fond ‘okay, put him on then.’ 

TJ accepted with a phone with a faint smile and retreated to his room, forcibly closing the door behind him. He flicked on the lights and collapsed down onto the bed, sinking into the mattress. 

“How are you?” he asked hurriedly, “how’s the cosmetology course?” 

She laughed slightly, seemingly taken aback. TJ couldn’t blame her - although he loved phone calls with Amber, he was particularly eager this time to get his mind off what had happened that night.

“It’s going good!” she answered, “I think my portfolio is almost done. How’s the movie?” 

“The movie’s good,” he smiled, “Cyrus is a lot more bearable than I was expecting.” 

“Whoa, that’s practically a glowing compliment from you. Are you feeling okay?”

TJ’s smile widened slightly at those words.

“He’s nice,” he defended, “and funny when he wants to be.” 

Amber hummed. “He’s cute too, don’t you think?” 

“Don’t even go there,” TJ warned playfully, and Amber let out an exasperated huff. 

“Fine. Anyway - I’ve already talked to Marty about this, but I’m finishing my course soon and I was thinking maybe I could come down to visit you two after graduation?” 

TJ immediately sat up at that, expression alight with excitement. “Amber, that’d be great! It’s been forever since we’ve hung out in L.A. together.” 

“I know,” she gushed, “I miss your stupid face.”

“And I miss _your _stupid stories.” 

Amber laughed at that, before pausing. “Wait, that actually reminds me, I have a story!”

And so she was off, with TJ smiling gently as he listened to her rattle on. He felt the heaviness he’d carried with him since that car drive gradually fade, so much so that when Cyrus texted him a few minutes later he even mustered up the courage to respond. 

_**Cyrus: **gn theo!! <3 _

_**TJ: **gn cy!! <33_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TJ deserves hugs and love and nothing else!!
> 
> Kudos/comments are appreciated as always if you liked the chapter <33


	7. Calling Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus decides on trying calling his mom back. TJ takes him out for dinner at an unexpectedly fancy restuarant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm posting this in the car using my phone's hotspot on the way to a party (oops) but I really wanted to get this chapter up so here it is!!
> 
> TW: mentions of alcohol abuse and addiction

_August 22nd, 2019 _

Cyrus saw it that night. 

He saw the way TJ seemed to shut down immediately upon the mention of alcohol, the way his gaze became distant, the way his mind began to wander elsewhere. Then, in the darkness of that parking lot, he saw the words to explain getting caught in TJ’s throat. He tried not to give it too much thought, knowing that if TJ wanted to tell him why he didn’t drink then he would, but his mind was adamant on reminding him just how familiar that behaviour had been. 

He’d seen his mom go through varying phases of drunkenness and sobriety after all, and an offer of alcohol was always enough to send her spiralling completely. She never got past a few weeks without alcohol, but Cyrus knew she tried. 

The problem was that he didn’t _want _to think about TJ having to deal with any of what his mom went through. He didn’t want to think about the look that had been on TJ’s face when Buffy suggested they go get drinks, the mixture of fear, of exhaustion, of _will I ever get a break from alcohol? _He knew it well. And it hurt. After only a few weeks of knowing TJ Kippen, it _hurt _to see him scared. It _hurt _to see him stand there desperately, unable to speak, expression completely guilt-ridden. As if he owed Cyrus something. 

Then again, all of this could’ve been his anxious brain overthinking everything. For some reason however, he didn’t think so. 

“Cyrus? You okay there?” 

He tuned back into his surroundings, where Andi, Buffy and him were all cozied up in their usual corner of the local coffee shop. The bright weather had finally given way to rain, and he heard it pattering away gently against the roof. Grey clouds loomed outside, drifting slowly with the wind, and a warm light dangled above their table. 

He blinked for a moment, then offered Buffy an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. What were we saying?” 

His friends exchanged a glance, but they didn’t pry. The one thing Cyrus desperately wanted to get off his chest was something he couldn’t talk about without exposing information that really wasn’t his to expose, so he bit his tongue. 

“It was nothing. Andi was just complaining about cute girl again,” said Buffy, smiling when the girl let out an offended gasp. 

“My struggles with finding straight girls cute are valid, thank you!” 

Cyrus just laughed slightly, placing a reassuring hand on Andi’s. “Your feelings are valid, Andi.” 

She wiped away a fake tear. “Thank you.” 

Thursday usually seemed to be the day they were all free, which had sparked this tradition of getting coffee in the late afternoon. It was a seemingly small thing, but Cyrus appreciated it nonetheless. Particularly after a busy day of shooting. It had persisted since their first few weeks in LA, and when he was away he always missed it. The kids that had first entered these doors were scared, hopelessly lost in a big new city. Now, looking across at the relaxed smiles on his friends’ faces, a spark of pride filled his chest. 

“Does that mean my feelings are valid, too?” Buffy asked as she placed down her cup, “work placements start soon and I wasn’t nervous at first but now everyone’s making me feel like I _should _be.” 

“I mean, you’ve been working up to this for years now,” said Cyrus, and Buffy levelled him with a glare.

“Now you’re one of them!” 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Cyrus laughed, raising his hands in surrender, “nerves are good in moderation, you know?” 

Buffy let out a sigh at that, leaning back in her seat. “Yeah, I guess. I just don’t wanna mess up.” 

Andi leaned over then, wrapping her arms around the girl. “You’ll be fine, Buff. If anything, this is your _chance _to make mistakes.” 

Cyrus nodded at that, and Buffy returned the hug, lips curving up into a gentle smile. “Thanks.” 

The rain was falling heavier now, soaking the pavement outside. It was that humid kind of rain that Cyrus had always despised, where the air felt heavy, and he found himself feeling thankful for the comfortable warmth that filled the café. The grey outside was kept at bay by the lights that hung from the ceiling, and apart from humming music and quiet chatter, relative quiet filled the space. 

A short silence fell between them, and Cyrus took a hesitant sip of his coffee before speaking up again. 

“I should probably tell you guys...mom called on Monday.” 

Their gazes snapped towards him in an instant, wide-eyed looks of shock on their faces. Cyrus couldn’t blame them. The last they’d heard, Cyrus had officially given up on calling everyday and accepted the fact that his mom wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Both of them had been there to pick up the pieces whenever he fell apart because of this.

“She _did? _What did she say?” asked Andi, clearly trying to keep the surprise out of their tone. 

Cyrus’ throat seemed to close up at those words. He bowed his head, tracing the edge of his coffee mug absent-mindedly. 

“I, um...I don’t know what she did. I couldn’t understand her. And I tried to call her back yesterday, but...” he trailed off, taking in a deep breath. 

Buffy’s expression fell with understanding. She leaned over the table, gently taking Cyrus’ hands. “It isn’t your fault, okay?” 

He shook his head at that. “Who left her there on her own?” 

“Who called her every day for almost three years hoping that she’d pick up?” came the firm response.

Cyrus let out a shaky breath at that, not entirely sure how to respond. He fell silent for a few long moments. 

“I just want her to be okay...”

Andi, whose eyes seemed to have welled up slightly with tears, slid out of the booth at those words and joined Cyrus on his side, wrapping her arms around him. She’d remained with him through his teenage years after all, and she’d seen first hand how much it hurt for Cyrus to see his mom spiral so far. She’d seen the distant look that always seemed to be in his eyes, as though even when he wasn’t at home his mom was all he could think about. He’d spent countless nights at her place to get away from his own, and he’d always hated the jealousy that filled him as he witnessed the relationship Andi shared with Bex and Bowie. _He _wanted that, even after all these years. _He _wanted to have parents that facetimed him every week and asked an excessive amount of questions about how things were going. 

Another silence fell. He took a deep breath in and then let it out again, lifting an arm to gently pull Andi in. 

“Should I try calling her again?” he asked.

A wince crossed Buffy’s face, and he knew instantly what her answer would be. 

“Cyrus...” Andi lifted her head from his shoulder, looking up at him with sad eyes. He felt sick all of a sudden. “I know you want the best for her...and we do too! But...you can’t keep this up forever. You’re hurting yourself.” 

He bit his lip at those words, hating the fact that they carried truth in them. Cyrus would never be ridden of the worry that loomed constantly over his head, but he knew with time it would eventually ease. He just wasn’t letting it. 

“But she called me,” he said, voice tinged with desperation, “maybe she wants to get better!”

Even _Buffy _seemed to be treading lightly on this occasion, as though Cyrus would break somehow if she spoke too loud.

“You can call her again if you want, okay? We’re not stopping you. But...” 

“But I should give up eventually,” Cyrus nodded, huffing out a sigh. They were right, as much as he didn’t want them to be. His mom had never, in all of his years of living with her, been predictable in the slightest. 

“I’ll call her tonight,” he smiled bitterly, “and if she doesn’t pick up then...I’ll stop. For good.”

Buffy nodded, while Andi just tightened his grip on him, head dropping gently down onto his shoulder again. 

It was when the sky outside had faded to black that Cyrus finally collapsed down onto his hotel bed, staring down the phone that sat beside him. He reached over to flick on a nearby lamp, flooding his corner of the room with light. The curtains were drawn shut, the TV was on its lowest volume setting and there were really no other distractions now that he could use to procrastinate. 

His gaze returned to his phone. He picked it up gingerly, slowly typing in his passcode and scrolling through his contacts. Taking a deep breath in, he tapped on his mom’s number and hit call before he could back out. 

_Please pick up. Please pick up. Please pick up._

One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

His heart was thudding away in his chest now, anticipating the sad sound of his call being directed to voicemail. 

_Four rings. _

The small spark of hope in his chest had officially been blown out. 

_Five rings. _

“The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please select-“

Cyrus ended the call then, heart heavy. What had he been expecting, anyway? It had been this way ever since he’d moved.

He lingered there for a moment, the sound of own breathing the only thing to keep him company. There was a time he would’ve cried over this, but with each missed call it became easier to move on his day. It became easier to forget about it all, as horrible as that sounded. Of course, thoughts about what could happen if his mom continued down this path kept him awake at night. Even while he slept, he’d had his fair share of nightmares about receiving a call one day, informing him that his mom had finally taken it too far. The thought made his stomach turn. 

Going back to Shadyside wasn’t an option for him. Not with the past he’d tried so desperately to escape, or the work demands he had to meet in LA. Who knew if his mom would even _want _him there, anyway.

Cyrus thought for a moment that he might’ve been imagining things when his phone lit up with an incoming call. He sat up in an instant, fumbling slightly in his haste to accept it.

There was silence for a moment, save for the soft sounds coming from his TV. Then- 

“Cyrus?” 

He wanted to cry with how relieved he was. She didn’t sound drunk in the slightest.

“Mom. Hi!” 

“Hi...did you call earlier?” 

_Yeah, only about a thousand times, _a bitter voice inside of his head piped up. 

“Yeah, I did. I just wanted to see how you were doing,” he explained, heart feeling heavy again all of a sudden. It felt like talking to a stranger. 

“Oh! Well, I’m okay. How’s L.A.? I see you sometimes in the ads. You look like you’ve done well.” 

Cyrus let out a breath, a confused mixture of hurt and excitement and hope clouding his brain. 

“Things are good here, yeah.”

He wanted to say more, but he honestly didn’t know how. There were so many questions flying around in his mind he had no idea where to start. 

“Um...” he hesitated, voice soft, “did you...did you get my other calls?” 

Silence.

Cyrus could feel tears pricking at his eyes now, and he was beginning to wonder how many times someone could cry within a week. 

“Yeah,” said his mom, letting out a heavy sigh, “I did. Cyrus...I’m so sorry.” 

_Well. There go the tears. _

“I didn’t want to face you. I’ve just...become so much of a mess now and I didn’t want you to hear me like that. _Or _try to help me when you should be focusing on yourself and your acting. But Cyrus...I never stopped caring.“ 

And Cyrus understood. He understood, even though various feelings of hurt and betrayal and anger were all threatening to bubble to the surface. He understood, even if he’d wished more than anything that his mom would’ve just picked up the phone so he would have known that she was okay. He understood, even though he’d spent more hours and more tears than he could count worrying about her. 

“I always get so excited about your movies, and seeing you on TV...you’ve done so well on your own, Cy. I’m so sorry I couldn’t have been there.” 

Cyrus was speechless for a moment after that, sitting there in the darkness as silent tears made their way down his face. He took in a shuddering breath. 

“It’s okay,” he managed to get out, “I understand. I just...want you to be okay. That’s all. You could never disappoint me.” 

He heard a sigh of relief on the other end. “I...haven’t had anything to drink since I called you. That’s the longest it’s been for a while.” 

“I’m proud of you,” Cyrus nodded, rubbing harshly at his face, “I know it’s hard.” 

“Thanks, hun,” came the soft response, and the familiarity of that phrase had the tears flowing even more. 

“Your dad is offering to pay for therapy...but I’m not so sure.” 

Cyrus’ expression lit up the moment he heard those words. Therapy was a luxury they just couldn’t afford all those years ago in Shadyside, and he felt the consequences of that every day he’d been there.

“Mom, please accept it,” he begged, not caring how desperate he probably sounded. 

“It’s just embarrassing that someone else has to do that for me,” she sighed, voice heavy, and Cyrus shook his head despite knowing well that she couldn’t see him. 

“It’s not, I promise! He just wants you to be okay. We all do.” 

Silence fell for a moment. Cyrus could feel his heart racing away in his chest. 

“I’ll think about it,” she answered eventually, “for now I think you should get some sleep, Cy. Don’t worry about me too much, okay?” 

He was tempted to try and to convince her some more, but the fact that she was even considering the offer in the first place was a huge step forward, and Cyrus didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. So he relented. 

“Okay. Goodnight, mom,” he said in a whisper. 

“Goodnight, Cy.” 

He somehow managed to fall asleep soon after with his phone hugged to his chest and his thoughts racing at about a hundred miles an hour. 

She picked up. She _finally _picked up. It may’ve seemed small to other people, but to _him_, it was everything. 

_~_

_August 23rd, 2019 _

“Hey, are you okay? You seem kind of distant.” 

Cyrus, ironically enough, snapped himself out of his daze and lifted his gaze to meet TJ’s. Late afternoon was fast approaching, and they were waiting in their usual seats to film a few more takes of their final scene for that day. Around them, actors and actresses were having their makeup and their hair touched up, there was chatter between the director and the crew members as they made some final decisions about the camera angles they wanted. TJ and Cyrus were sat together amongst it all, their chairs pushed together. 

“Yeah,” he answered absent-mindedly, “I’m okay.” 

For a moment he considered telling him everything that had happened last night, but with the whirlwind of sound and movement around them, it didn’t seem like the best time. TJ’s eyebrows furrowed slightly with concern, but he gave a quick nod and didn’t press further. Instead, he pulled his phone out from his pocket and plugged in his earphones, offering one to Cyrus.

The beginnings of a smile appeared on Cyrus’ face as he accepted the earphone, leaning over slightly so he could see what TJ apparently wanted to show him. TJ’s expression brightened slightly, and he playfully used one hand to cover Cyrus’ eyes, fumblingly using the other to type. 

“It’s a surprise!” 

Cyrus groaned. “I hate surprises!” 

“Well, you’ll like this one,” TJ assured him, and although Cyrus couldn’t see him he _knew _that he probably had that mischievous smile on his face. 

He waited a few more moments, then TJ was taking away his hand and holding up the phone for Cyrus to see. 

“Aww,” he cooed, unable to keep the bright smile from his lips as he leaned over some more. “You’re playing me a cute puppy video even though you like cats better.” 

TJ gave Cyrus’ shoulder a playful swat. “Hey - even _I_ can't deny that puppies are adorable.” 

And so there they were, sitting together, smiling away at puppy videos amongst the chaos of set. Cyrus was beginning to wonder how he _ever_ could've disliked TJ, even for a moment. 

Blues were fading to oranges by the time TJ and Cyrus finally signed out, crossing basecamp towards the main entrance. Gentle summer breeze gusted by, ruffling their hair, and Cyrus’ heart somehow felt lighter than it had that entire day. The midday heat was finally beginning to fade too, leaving a pleasant warmth in its wake. 

“Let’s grab dinner,” said TJ, and it really should’ve been alarming how quickly Cyrus agreed. It was Friday after all, and the week had been one giant rollercoaster of emotions for him. He needed to get away, if only for a few hours.

“You know, we haven’t even been official friends for a week yet,” Cyrus smiled over at him. 

TJ thought about this for a moment, before giving a shrug. “I guess not,” he agreed, pausing as his gaze met Cyrus’. “It feels like longer, though.” 

He thought back to their talk on the roof, and their hike, and how easy everything had felt. His smile softened. 

“Yeah. It does.” 

The drive seemed quicker than it probably was, with the last remnants of light faded by the time they arrived. Cyrus’ lips curved up into a smile as TJ jogged around and opened the car door for him. He closed it again with an echoing thud, playfully pushing TJ away from him as they began to make their way through the darkened parking lot. He hadn’t even taken _note _of the place they’d arrived at, so when he saw a flashy-looking Italian restaurant in front of him, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“When you said we should ‘grab’ dinner I wasn’t really expecting this.” 

TJ just smiled shrugged, bumping Cyrus’ shoulder with his own as they approached the glass sliding doors. Around them, the air was alight with talk, laughter and music, as it always was when it came to nighttime in L.A. The inside of the restaurant was modern, with expensive-looking carpet lining the floors, and a dangling chandelier hung up in the centre. Various lights illuminated the room, and their reflection was visible in the windows they passed. 

“Would we be able to have a table for two please?” 

The server flashed a smile and nodded, leading the pair past various tables covered in white cloth, before seating them at a table by the corner, right next to a window. They received a few looks as they sat down, and the realisation began to dawn on Cyrus that they were most definitely underdressed. Jeans, a shirt, and wind-swept hair apparently didn’t seem to cut it in a restaurant like this. TJ didn’t seem to mind if the way he was ignoring them all was any indicator. 

“Geez, I didn’t think this place would be so fancy,” TJ murmured, which earned him a laugh. 

“You mean you haven’t come here before?” 

“I just thought the food looked good on Instagram!” he defended, as he reached over to begin pouring them both glasses of water.

Cyrus gave him a fond eye-roll. “We probably look like idiots.” 

“_Handsome _idiots,” TJ nodded, earning him another laugh. 

The pair reverted to reading the menus that were in front of them for a minute or so, eyes scanning over all the options. They settled on the same pasta dish, largely because it was the only thing they could read out without messing up completely. 

As the waiter walked away with their order, Cyrus began to feel nervousness rise up inside him. TJ was looking at him now in a way that seemed patient, but curious, and Cyrus came to conclusion after a moment that TJ must’ve known something was up. Cyrus was wracking his brain, trying to find a place to start. 

He leaned forward slightly, and TJ mirrored the movement in a way that almost seemed subconscious. 

“I called my mom last night,” he blurted, and TJ’s eyebrows raised slightly. 

“Really? Did she pick up?” 

Cyrus nodded, feeling misty-eyed at the mere _mention _of their conversation. TJ nodded slowly, drawing back as though trying to give Cyrus some space. His gaze somehow seemed to say _‘you can tell me if you want to’ _and Cyrus felt a strange sense of comfort in that. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out, smiling sadly, “she did.” 

And so began Cyrus’ rambling, which he usually would’ve worried was annoying, but he couldn’t stop once he’d started. TJ didn’t seem to mind. He nodded occasionally, and smiled gently when he thought Cyrus needed encouragement. When his phone vibrated with a message, he was quick to delete the notification and turn it to silent. It took a few minutes, but Cyrus managed to explain their entire conversation by the time he’d done. 

“Wow. That’s...” TJ trailed off, looking as though he didn’t quite know whether to smile or frown. Cyrus huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah. It was...interesting.” 

“Do you know what you’re gonna do?” 

Cyrus honestly hadn’t even thought about that until now, which was surprising now that he thought it. He’d been so focused on the fact that his mom even _called _him in the first place, he hadn’t given much thought as to what his course of action could be. 

“...Hope to god that she accepts the therapy,” he said eventually, and TJ nodded. 

“Yeah. True.” 

Cyrus thought about it a moment longer, fingers trailing absent-mindedly along the table cloth. “And...I guess I’m just gonna keep calling her. My days of counselling her are very much over, but she still needs someone. I wanna be there for her.” 

“Even after everything?” TJ asked softly. 

Cyrus took a deep breath. “Yeah. Even after everything.” 

“Well, if you’re gonna be there for her then I’ll be here for you.” 

“That’s so sappy,” Cyrus couldn’t help but smile, which earned him an offended huff and a playful smack on the shoulder.

“Don’t get used to it,” TJ joked, and Cyrus’ smile brightened even more.

He’d _already _gotten used to it, but TJ didn’t need to know that. 

As they continued to wait for their food, TJ randomly stole his napkin and began folding it, glancing up occasionally to meet Cyrus’ confused gaze with his own. 

“What if I wanted to use that?” he complained, to which TJ just gave him a smile.

“You can still use it if you want. I’m not destroying it.” 

Cyrus continued to watch as he made various folds, earning him another round of amused glances from the people around them. After a minute or two, he began to realise what was taking shape.

“Theo Kippen, if you’re folding me a flower I _swear_-“ 

TJ was holding the folded flower up not even seconds later, a grin on his face that made it very hard for Cyrus to pretend to be annoyed.

“A flower to mark our friendship.” 

Cyrus rolled his eyes, but there was a smile threatening to appear on his face as he accepted it.

“You’re the sappiest person alive, but...thanks.” 

“Don’t mention it,” TJ smiled, and Cyrus narrowly avoided the spare napkin that was tossed his way.

“Hey!” he spluttered, and he was just about to throw it right back when they were approached by the waiter, whose face seemed to be a mixture of confusion and amusement. 

Cyrus immediately placed the napkin down, directing a glare at TJ when he began to laugh slightly. Their plates were placed down on the table, and with a polite smile, the waiter was headed back towards the kitchen. 

He looked down towards TJ’s flower, and noting how fragile it looked, he decided on taking a photo of it before he began to eat. 

TJ of course was _delighted _by this development. 

“Who’s the sappy one now?” he teased, and Cyrus scoffed. 

“It’s still you,” he responded, “but I never said I didn’t like it.” 

TJ ended up smiling down at his pasta at that, shaking his head in amusement. “Noted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter wasn't as tyrus-heavy, but I hope it was still okay!! <33


	8. A Cat-Astrophe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJ and Cyrus go rollerskating together over the weekend, then to a cast dinner on Monday. Marty is a good friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was longer than intended (oops) but I hope you guys enjoy!!
> 
> TW: mentions of alcohol abuse and addiction

_August 31st, 2019_

It was a slow realisation, one that didn’t hit TJ at any one moment, but by the end of that next week it had become apparent. Shooting his scenes with Cyrus had almost become _easy_. It wasn’t as though they were particularly difficult at first, he was used to filming with people he didn’t know well, but it took less effort now to fall right into character and pretend they really _were _best friends in love. After almost of a month of knowing Cyrus, of realising they clicked far too well to be anything less than friends, TJ could honestly say that being around him felt _comfortable_. Almost as comfortable as he felt around Marty. The very slight awkwardness that used to tinge their scenes had officially vanished. They both knew they were acting after all, and that all of the lingering looks, the excessive flirting, the near-kisses, were solely between their characters. 

He was trying to explain this to Marty as he got ready, rummaging around in his suitcase while the boy sat back on his bed and watched on in amusement. It was almost midday, and he’d rolled out of bed in a panic not even fifteen minutes earlier upon realising that he and Cyrus had arranged to go rollerskating that day. Bright, dust-speckled sunlight poured in through the small strip of window that wasn’t covered by his curtains, and he could hear the bustling sounds of L.A. traffic outside.

“So...it’s easier for you to do these scenes because they feel more natural?” 

“Exactly!” 

Marty’s eyebrows raised slightly at this development, a small smile tugging at his lips as he lifted himself from the bed and moved over to join him. 

“Aww, so you’re saying it feels more real now?”

TJ stopped in his tracks at that, turning to face his friend with the most bewildered expression he could muster. The words in themselves were bad enough, but the way Marty was looking at him then, eyes dancing with mirth, made TJ’s stomach feel as though it was twisting itself into a knot all of a sudden. 

“What? No! I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but-“

“TJ,” Marty interrupted, laughing slightly now, “I was joking.” 

He let out a small sigh of relief as he returned to his rummaging, cheeks burning with embarrassment at his own overreaction. 

“Right, right,” he mumbled.

He’d completely forgotten about choosing a shirt at this point, mindlessly pushing them about instead.

_ It’s Marty, _ he thought to himself, _he’s always joking. That’s just what he does._

Marty watched him a moment longer, expression a mixture of concern and puzzlement, before lowering himself down onto the ground beside him and gently pushing his hands away. 

“I think...” he paused for a moment, sifting carefully through the shirts, “he’d like this one.” 

TJ scoffed. “This isn’t about what he’d like.” 

Marty gave him an exasperated look, before playfully shoving the shirt towards him. “Green looks good on you, okay? Just wear it.” 

_ “_Was that a compliment, Marty?” he gasped, narrowly dodging the pair of jeans that Marty grabbed from the ground and tossed in his direction. 

“Get changed, you idiot,” he said fondly, before getting to his feet and heading towards the door.

TJ couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to what Marty had said as he changed and began to gather up some of his things. It had been a joke, _of course it had_, but lately, it seemed all of the people on set seemed to have that same smug expression on their face whenever he and Cyrus talked on set. It was like they _knew _something he didn’t, and it was driving him half-crazy trying to figure out what was going through their heads. Deep down he had an idea, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it by any means. They were playing _characters _after all, and it wasn’t as though people didn’t do that all the time while remaining friends. 

He did his best to push these thoughts back down as he entered the living room, running a hand through his hair and grabbing an apple on his way to the front door. Soft footfalls sounded by the hallway, then Marty was emerging with a smile on his face and his car keys in hand. 

“Going without these?” 

TJ couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him as he moved forward, accepting the keys. “Thanks.” 

“No problem. Now go before being fashionably late turns into just being late!” he said, ushering him out of the door, and TJ raised his arms in surrender as he stepped out of the apartment. 

The drive to the rollerskating rink was a relatively short one, and he eventually managed to find himself a parking space about five minutes after he and Cyrus were supposed to meet up. At first he panicked slightly as he crossed the parking lot, taking note of how large the building was, but when he saw Cyrus leaned up against one its colourful walls, tapping away at his phone, a small smile appeared on his face. The place was jam-packed as it always was on Saturdays, with streams of people flowing in and out of the glass sliding doors. The sun burned high up in the sky, casting a clearly defined shadow beneath the small strip of overhang that Cyrus was stood under. 

“Hey, stranger!” he called out as he began to near, and Cyrus looked up instantly, pushing himself off the wall with a laugh. 

“Who are you, again?” he asked once TJ had approached, smiling playfully. 

“Oh you know, just some guy with 3.6 million followers on Twitter,” he answered, inspecting his nails, and Cyrus rolled his eyes. 

“Quit bragging, Kippen.” 

TJ grinned. “You’re just jealous that I have 700,000 more followers than you.” 

“Nope. As your friend, I’m totally, 100% happy for you and your 3.6 million followers,” said Cyrus, smiling slightly at the shocked look that crossed TJ’s face, “I just think I deserve them more than you do.” 

He gasped at those words, but his indignant expression faded slightly when Cyrus began to laugh. “Excuse me, but I think I deserve a damn _medal _for the amount of generic love interests I’ve played.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve played generic love interests _and _quirky sidekicks.” 

TJ narrowed his eyes at that, partially due to the sun shining down on them and partially because he didn’t have much of a comeback. Cyrus seemed to realise this, because his smile widened into a grin. 

He set the backpack he’d slung over his shoulder down onto the ground, and TJ watched in slight confusion as he began to rummage around for something. After a second or two, he let out a triumphant ‘aha!’ and produced two pairs of sunglasses from the bag, which had TJ laughing slightly as Cyrus straightened again. 

“You realise we’re gonna be inside, right?” 

Cyrus just raised an eyebrow though, handing him a dark pair of sunglasses. “Theo, if someone spots us inside of there we’re literally _doomed_. We’ll be trampled to death.” 

TJ blinked at him for a moment, slowly realising what he was suggesting, before bursting out into laughter. 

“And you think _sunglasses _will stop people from recognising us?!” 

“Well I don’t see _you _coming up with any better ideas!” Cyrus exclaimed, giving him a playful shove backwards. 

TJ managed to calm himself down upon noticing the bewildered looks he was earning them both.

“Okay, okay,” he said, all business now, “I have an idea. Do you have a pen and paper on you?” 

Cyrus raised his eyebrows at him. TJ took that as a no. 

He hummed thoughtfully, before pulling out his phone and bringing up the AppStore. He searched for a notepad app and downloaded the first he saw, Cyrus watching over his shoulder in amusement. 

“Okay, now hear me out,” he began, stepping away so that Cyrus couldn’t see his screen. 

He scrawled down the words ‘NOT TJ KIPPEN’ using the pen tool, before turning his phone around to show Cyrus. 

“I could just hold this out in front of me the whole time!”

Cyrus’ expression seemed to go from confusion, to amusement, to complete exasperation within the span of about three seconds. He slid his sunglasses on and took TJ’s arm, pulling him towards the entrance.

“Okay, we’re going before either of us can come up with any more dumb ideas.” 

“Hey,” TJ protested, playfully snatching his arm back, “my idea was _not _dumb!” 

The building was just as colourful inside as it was outside, with patterned carpet spanning the floor and bright blue walls that rose up to an impressive height. A café was tucked away in the corner, filled to the brim with tired parents and the lively screams of over-excited children. 

“It’s busy,” Cyrus observed as they pulled on their rollerskates, looking out at the chaos.

TJ nodded. “Just a little bit.” 

His gaze fell on one of the skating rinks, where more people seemed to be remaining by the wall than not, and a slight smile appeared on his face. 

“We could skate in the middle of that one,” he suggested, gesturing over to it, and Cyrus nodded in agreement. 

They were able to fight their way towards the rink after a minute or two, Cyrus apologising profusely anytime either of them bumped into anyone, and skating out into the relatively clear centre was a breath of fresh air for both of them. TJ could’ve sworn that a few people stopped as they walked by just to stare, but he tried hard to focus on skating rather than the crowds surrounding them. 

“Bet I could make it to the other side quicker than you,” said TJ, eyebrows raised in challenge. 

Cyrus paused for a moment, as though thinking about it, before grinning and proceeding to take off. 

“Challenge acccepted!” he called out over his shoulder, laughing when TJ began to splutter in disbelief.

“You’re a cheater, Cyrus Goodman!” 

Cyrus _obviously _managed to make it before him, and he rolled his eyes at the triumphant grin that spread across his face. TJ skated back out towards the centre again, neon lights flashing around him as he slowed down, extended his arms out to one and spun around on one roller skate, earning him a few stares. 

He managed to stop himself with relative grace, coming to face Cyrus again with a bright smile. 

“How on earth did you - I mean, I bet I could do that,” said Cyrus, and TJ’s smile faded into one of amusement. 

“Sure I won’t have to catch you?” 

“Nope,” Cyrus answered, gesturing for him to move out of the way. TJ did so, privately preparing himself to surge forward and catch his friend if needed. 

He watched as Cyrus took a deep breath in and began skating forward, extending his arms the same way TJ had and _somehow _managing to pull off a small spin. 

“You did it!” he cheered as Cyrus approached him again, and only _then _did the boy stumble forward, legs coming out from underneath him as he fell right into TJ. 

TJ stumbled backwards slightly on impact, but he managed to steady himself and then Cyrus, arms wrapped around him to prevent him from falling forward any further. 

“If you wanted a hug you could’ve just said so,” he teased, which had Cyrus huffing a sarcastic laugh as he straightened again. 

“My saviour,” he deadpanned, and TJ pouted slightly.

“Hey, you say that as if it’s a bad thing!” 

Cyrus stared at him for a moment, a slight smile at the corner of his lips. “It’s not, but...” he trailed off, and TJ gave him a confused look.

“First person to the other end wins!” Cyrus said suddenly, taking off again, and TJ let out a dramatic groan. 

“Stop doing that!” he whined, before reluctantly skating after the boy. 

The sun was beginning to lower down towards the horizon by the time the pair finally left the building again, having agreed to grab milkshakes someplace. Burning midday heat was fading into pleasant evening warmth, and a cool breeze gusted by, filtering through their hair as they walked. The bustling sounds of cars and chatter and movement all blended into one continuous hum of noise. 

“I have a question,” said Cyrus, breaking TJ out his daze.

His voice was tinged with nervousness, and TJ turned to give him a questioning look. 

“What is it?” 

Cyrus hesitated, looking pointedly forward. “Do you...um...”

TJ didn’t pressure him at all, despite the curiosity that was beginning to burn within him. 

“Do you and Marty like each other?” Cyrus rushed out, and for a few lingering moments those words settled in the air, blanketing them both in silence. 

The shock on TJ’s face gave way to amusement, and his eyes were dancing with it as he looked over at Cyrus. “_Please _don't tell me you’ve been thinking that this whole time.”

Cyrus just shrugged. “I don’t know. I saw how you two were while I was over, and I wasn’t gonna say anything but...” 

TJ shook his head, laughing slightly now. “I don’t like him that way. I mean, we’re friends, and he’s amazing, but I just...couldn’t. I’m too busy for anything like that, anyway.” 

Cyrus nodded, seeming relieved. “Yeah, me too.” 

A silence settled between them again, broken only when a girl approached them, practically shaking with how nervous she was. 

“Hi! I’m so sorry if this is a hassle, but I love your movies and I was wondering if I could get a photo?” she asked, gaze fixed on Cyrus, and TJ’s eyebrows raised slightly. 

“He’d love to!” he answered enthusiastically, “want me to take the photo?” 

“That’d be great! Thank you so much,” she nodded, handing over her phone as Cyrus gave a bright smile and moved to stand beside her, gently drawing her in for a hug. 

TJ snapped a few photos, handing her phone back with a laugh when she began to thank them both profusely. 

“It’s nothing, don’t worry!” Cyrus assured her, and TJ decided on pulling out his own phone when they struck up a conversation, scrolling absent-mindedly through his emails. 

The girl remained for a few minutes, before telling them both she should be heading back to her friends. Cyrus looked smug when they began to walk again, giving TJ’s shoulder a playful nudge.

“Maybe followers aren’t everything, huh?” 

“Oh shut up,” TJ smiled, no real heat behind the words, “that was _one _time.” 

“...Yeah, I’m not gonna say anything to that because I don’t want you to change your mind about paying for our milkshakes.” 

TJ’s smile widened. “Smart idea.”

~

_ September 2nd, 2019 _

Being invited along to a spontaneous cast dinner really _shouldn’t _have had TJ’s heartrate soaring the way it did, but the only thing on his mind as he stared across at his castmates, who were all excitedly discussing which restaurant they should go to, were ideas for excuses as to why he couldn’t go. He _hated _that this was the way it was, but he just couldn’t help it. 

He opened his mouth, ready to voice the most convincing excuse he could, but then he heard Cyrus’ speak up from beside him, telling them that he’d be happy to come along. His gaze turned expectantly to TJ, and suddenly everyone’s eyes were on him too. He felt his mouth go dry. 

“I...” he trailed off as he glanced over at Cyrus, knowing well that he would _definitely _suspect that something was up if he declined the offer. As if he hadn’t already. 

TJ watched as realisation swept visibly over Cyrus’ face. A sick feeling was beginning to grow in the pit of his stomach. 

“TJ and I might be catching up tonight, so we might not be able to make it actually,” he said casually, lying right through his teeth.

“Damn. Another time?” asked Joe, one of the supporting roles, and TJ nodded enthusiastically. 

As everyone began to sign out and pick their things up from their trailers, TJ stayed behind to talk to Madison, who had suggested the idea in the first place from what he could gather. Cyrus lingered too, concern written all over his face, but TJ flashed him a smile and nodded towards his trailer. 

“Hey Teej,” she smiled, as she slung her bag over her shoulder. 

“Hey! So um, about that dinner - do you think there’ll be alcohol?” 

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly with confusion at those words, and TJ couldn’t blame her. It probably wasn’t a question she was used to. 

“I don’t think so, no. Why?” 

TJ felt relief flood his system. He gave her the most confident smile he could muster. 

“Just curious. Not sure if I wanna be hungover for our shoot tomorrow.” 

Madison laughed at that, her confused expression smoothing out into one of amusement. “I hear ya. I’ve done that a few times and it _really _doesn't get any easier.” 

“Definitely not,” TJ agreed, managing a small laugh in return. “I think Cy and I will probably be able to come - we’ll just hang out some other time.” 

“Great!” Madison smiled, and TJ chose to ignore how knowing her expression seemed, “we’ll see you two there at 9.” 

“See you then,” TJ nodded, offering her one last wave before making his way back over to his trailer. Cyrus was inside when he walked in, sprawled across the couch on his phone, and the sight had become so familiar over the past week that TJ couldn’t help but smile.

“Playing that word game again?” he asked as he approached, offering a hand. 

Cyrus looked up and accepted the hand with a grateful smile, allowing TJ to pull him to his feet. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, his grasp on TJ’s hand remaining for a moment too long, “I can’t get the stupid ten letter word for this level. And Duolingo won’t stop bugging me about my streak!” 

TJ gasped. “Not the streak! How long is it?” 

“Two days,” Cyrus answered, earning him a snort. 

“Damn. Someone get this guy a medal.” 

Cyrus looked for a moment as though he was going to retort, but his expression changed upon meeting TJ’s gaze. They both lingered there for a moment, the words Cyrus wanted to voice clearly caught in his throat. TJ was the first to pipe up. 

“We can go to that dinner. If you want, that is.”

Cyrus hesitated. “...Are you sure?” 

“Yeah. I’m sure.” 

Cyrus glanced down at the ground, that same conflicted expression back on his face. TJ held his breath, and there was silence for a moment, save from the chattering outside. 

“Theo?”

TJ let out the breath he’d been holding. “Yeah?”

His expression had fallen now, weighed down with concern, and TJ felt a small pang of guilt in his chest. 

“Never mind,” he said. 

TJ let out a relieved sigh that was barely audible, but Cyrus seemed to catch it if the way his expression shifted again was anything to go by. 

TJ moved forward before either of them could dwell on it any longer, opening the trailer door for him. Cyrus offered him a small smile as he stepped out, but there was still a sadness there that made TJ wish he’d never picked up a glass of alcohol in the first place. He knew he couldn’t undo the past, but _boy _did he want to. If he’d known then what he knew now, he never would’ve chosen Reed and his goons over Marty. He never would’ve chosen parties and drinking himself into oblivion over sleepovers with Marty. He never would’ve wasted all of the money he’d earned at that gym buying alcohol every night. 

His heart felt heavy as he stepped out after Cyrus, as though it was weighing him down with each step he took. The sky was fading as sunset approached, pure, uninterrupted blue gradually becoming a mix of yellows and oranges. The usual stillness that filled base camp during the evening had already settled. Some days they would shoot late into the night, only leaving when the sky had become a pitch-black canvas dotted by stars, but other days, like this one, they would start early in the morning and leave at dusk. 

Cyrus seemed to sense he needed some cheering up, because he stood up on his tiptoes and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. 

“Hey, what do you call a group of unorganised cats?” 

TJ shook his head at that, unable to fight back the smile creeping onto his face. “I don’t know. What _do _you call a group of unorganised cats?”

“A cat-astrophe!” 

“That...was not good,” said TJ, laughing slightly.

Cyrus grinned. “You’re laughing!” 

“Only because it’s so ridiculous!” 

“Hey, I chose a cat joke specifically for _you _and _this is_ the thanks I get?” 

TJ just shook his head again, fondness shining through in his smile. His thoughts didn’t seem so bad when Cyrus was messing around like this, which was a theme he’d come to notice over the last few weeks. Cyrus Goodman’s smiles were ridiculously infectious, and TJ found that somewhat unfair at times. 

“Thanks,” he conceded, voice softer now, and Cyrus’ expression softened too. 

“No problem.” 

“You can stop walking on your tip-toes if you want.” 

Cyrus laughed at that, lowering his arm from TJ’s shoulders so that he could walk normally again. TJ hesitated for a moment, before wrapping an around him instead. Cyrus didn’t seem to mind. 

It was dark outside by the time TJ and Cyrus arrived at the restaurant they were having dinner at. They’d stopped by Marty’s place first to drop off a few things and freshen up, heading off an hour or two later when the sun had officially set. The drive was about half an hour, largely due to the congestion, but it was made somewhat bearable by Cyrus’ (endearingly awful) singing. 

The restaurant had a homely atmosphere, particularly in comparison to that Italian restaurant they’d visited just a week ago. The walls were all exposed brick, and there were warm yellow lights hung up from ceiling above each booth. The floors and the table were a dark hardwood, and there were a large amount of people crammed into what seemed to be a relatively small space. TJ followed close behind Cyrus as they were lead over to their booth, and the cast greeted them both with smiles and hugs. 

TJ and Cyrus ended up pressed into one of the corners together, but TJ didn’t mind it too much. It could’ve been someone he wasn’t comfortable with, after all. 

Madison, who was sat opposite them both, gave a friendly smile. “So how are you guys doing with your scenes? I think we were all kind of nervous at first that you’d be fighting the whole time.”

TJ laughed. “Nah, not when there’s pay in it for both of us. I mean - I hate him though, personally.” 

“Oh yeah, I despise this guy,” Cyrus nodded, and Madison laughed. 

“Well, I’m glad you two could work things out. Hansen is really happy with both of you, I think.” 

“Thanks,” TJ smiled, “I’m sure she’s happy with you as well - you’ve been killing it! Is this your first leading role?” 

Madison held a hand up to her chest at that, smiling, “thank you so much! And yeah, this is my first leading role. It was scary at first, but I’m pretty glad to have you two as sidekicks.” 

“Stoic sidekick and comedic-relief sidekick at your service,” Cyrus nodded, which had all of them laughing slightly. 

Everything went smoothly for all of ten minutes while they chose what to order. Then, the waiter approached their table, and TJ honestly couldn’t explain it but a sinking feeling appeared in his stomach all of a sudden. The space was alive with talk and laughter, so it was somewhat difficult to hear the waiter at first, but the responses from their caste mates made it obvious enough what was said. 

“Uh yeah, are we doing drinks tonight guys?” asked Joe, looking over at them all. 

He felt Cyrus tense up beside him. 

Madison shrugged. “You guys can get some if you want, but I think TJ and I are good.” 

“I’m good too,” Cyrus said quickly, as though somehow that would convince the guys not to order any drinks at all for their table. 

“Suit yourselves. Hey Raf, want any?” 

They ended up ordering a bottle of champagne for the table, alongside a few beers for the guys that wanted it, and TJ had to take a few calming breaths as he watched the waiter walk away.

_ It’s just like any other drink. It’ll be on the table, but you don’t have to have any. It’s just a liquid. A stupid, life-ruining liquid that destroyed all of your friendships and almost ended up with you d- _

“Theo?” he heard a soft voice speak from beside him. 

TJ turned his head to meet Cyrus’ concerned gaze. He’d barely registered the fact that Cyrus had begun tracing gentle circles onto his arm until that point. 

“Yeah?” he answered, flashing an unconvincing smile. 

Cyrus let out a sigh, looking down at the table as though unsure of what to do. 

“Nothing,” he whispered, shaking his head, and TJ couldn’t help but feel guilty. 

He held up successfully for about forty five minutes once the alcohol arrived, but ultimately, the sight of _other _people being drunk became too much. He mumbled something about needing the bathroom, and everyone moved out from his side of the booth to make way for him. He made his way through the crowds and the noise, feeling light-headed as he approached the glass door and shoved it open. 

TJ’s hands were shaking as he felt around in his pockets for the one cigarette he knew he _hadn’t _thrown away. The disappointed look that he knew would be on Marty’s face if he could see what was going on burned in the back of his brain as he stepped out into the evening air and turned a corner, fumbling around for a lighter next. To his dismay, even though he really should’ve expected it, the door was thrown open a moment later and Cyrus stepped out. 

His gaze immediately found the cigarette in TJ’s hand, and his expression fell. TJ tried not to think about that very same expression on Amber’s face the countless times she’d discovered him relapsing. 

“Theo...” he spoke softly, as though TJ was a dear that would run away at the slightest noise. Through his panic, he couldn’t help but feel the slightest amount of annoyance. 

“Go back inside, Cy,” he said, turning away from the boy to begin lighting his cigarette. 

“I can’t do that.” 

TJ brought the cigarette up to his lips, allowing the smoke to invade his lungs. It tasted horrible, and grey, but it _felt _relieving, and that was the only thing that mattered to him at that moment.

How could he possibly be so weak that he couldn’t be at the _table _as a few people who were drinking? 

“And why not?” he asked as he exhaled, more forcefully than intended.

“Because..._god_, because I fucking care about you, okay?!” 

TJ froze with shock at those words. He’d never expected them, or that tone in general, to come from _Cyrus of_ all people. He slowly turned around, surprise still evident in his expression. 

“Do you _know _how many times I let my mom go through this alone?” he asked, voice cracking slightly, “do you _know _how many times I stayed inside doing homework while my mom was outside crying her eyes out because she’d relapsed? I can’t make that mistake again, TJ! I know you don’t want me here, but I’m _staying_, and that’s final.” 

TJ’s face softened. He looked down at the cigarette in his hand, regret crashing down over him all at once. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he moved wordlessly over to the ashtray that stood by the front entrance and put it out. Cyrus let out a relieved sigh. 

“I’m so sorry, Cy,” he breathed out, unsure of what else to say. 

Cyrus just shook his head though, tone soft again as though it’d never been harsh in the first place. “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry for making it about me.” 

Silence fell for a moment. The glass doors were pushed open, and a couple hesitantly walked by them. TJ felt his face flush with embarrassment. 

“Um...there’s a bench over there. Wanna sit?” 

Cyrus offered him a weak smile and nodded, trailing behind as TJ crossed the parking lot and settled down on a bench that stood amongst a patch of grass. Stars burned amongst the night sky above them, and the breeze had picked up since sunset. 

“Cy...I, um...” it seemed TJ’s throat wasn’t cooperating, because getting the words out took an unusual amount of effort, “I know you’ve probably already figured this out, but...”

Cyrus was patient with him though, placing a reassuring hand on his own. TJ hesitantly turned his hand over so that his palm faced upwards, and Cyrus smiled gently as he intertwined their fingers. 

He felt an odd sense of comfort begin to wash over him. 

“I have a problem with drinking,” he managed, feeling as though he was choking the words out, “like...really bad. I didn’t think it was so bad in Shadyside, but while I’ve been in L.A. it’s flared up again, and...and I’m really scared because all it takes is one drink for me to get carried away and once I’m drinking, I...I can’t stop. I try, but I _can’t_, and then it’s over from there and I’ll be trying to drink every night because I can’t help myself.” 

He could feel tears beginning to well up now, and he looked up at the sky, trying to blink them away. 

Cyrus frowned slightly, bringing his other hand up to gently tilt TJ’s head towards him. “It’s okay. You can cry.” 

And suddenly it seemed the floodgates had opened because tears began to stream down his face. He let out a shaky exhale. 

“When things started getting rough between my parents in Shadyside, and they were constantly arguing, I started hanging out with Reed and his friends to try and...” he paused for a moment, shame written all over his face, “to try and get alcohol. Then it became constant, and I couldn’t get through a week without it. And Marty started getting worried about me but I kept pushing him away, and it got to the point where I was black-out drunk at least four nights a week. Things got better when I started getting close to Marty again, but then I started drinking in secret and one night I...I...ended up-“ 

TJ shook his head though, swallowing back the words. He wasn’t ready by any means to share that part of his past. Cyrus seemed to understand, because he shook his head and pulled TJ into a tight hug. They remained like that for a few long moments, his tears rapidly soaking Cyrus’ shirt. 

He winced when they eventually pulled away, noticing the wet patch. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Cyrus assured him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m gonna go in and get our stuff, okay? I’ll drive us back to Marty’s place.” 

“Are you sure-“ 

“I’m 100% sure,” Cyrus said firmly. 

TJ nodded, still feeling guilty as he watched him jog across the parking lot towards the front entrance. He emerged after a few minutes, and TJ silently made his way over to Marty’s car to meet him. 

The drive was relatively quiet, save for a few murmured words of comfort from Cyrus. It went by in a blur of lights and noise, and soon enough TJ found himself in the elevator up to Marty’s floor. The hallway was dark, and only muffled noise managed to reach them from the apartments they passed. Pale moonlight flooded in through the windows, illuminating their faces as they finally came to a stop outside Marty’s door. 

TJ fumbled around for his key, managing to get the door with some effort. Cyrus trailed behind him as he stepped into the living room, draping his jacket over an arm of the couch. 

Marty seemed to have heard them at the front door, because he was already by the counter, offering them both a bright smile. It faded the moment his gaze fell on TJ. 

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, eyebrows drawn together in concern as he moved across the living room. 

TJ let out a small, shaky sigh. “They had alcohol there. I thought I’d be fine, but it...it wasn’t,” he explained, shaking his head. 

“Fuck,” Marty muttered to himself, stepping forward to wrap his friend up a hug. 

TJ smiled weakly, feeling somewhat embarrassed by his breakdown now that’d calmed down slightly. 

“It’s an ice-cream night, guys!” Marty announced as he pulled away, patting TJ’s shoulder. “We’re having ice-cream! Screw my usual fruit-for-dessert rule!” 

“Yay!” Cyrus cheered, and TJ couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him. 

He may not have made the right choices in the past, but having Marty, and even _Cyrus_, here with him now was something he couldn’t be more grateful for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to be soft or anything but...TJ Kippen deserves all the hugs. That is all.
> 
> Kudos/comments are appreciated as always if you liked the chapter!! <33


	9. Promise Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus stays over at Marty's apartment for the night. TJ is called in for a spontaneous PR meeting, where he recieves a proposition that leaves them both torn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! My tired, gay self presents...a new chapter! Hope you guys enjoy <3
> 
> TW: brief mentions of alcoholism

_ September 1st, 2019 _

Cyrus would never say it aloud, but he felt a small spark of fear begin to grow in him following his conversation with TJ. He’d pushed away a whole array of uncomfortable thoughts in order to provide the comfort he knew TJ needed, but deep down, he was _terrified_. He didn’t want a repeat of his mom. He didn’t want to see TJ relapse, or watch him spiral into old ways of thinking. His mom’s alcoholism had plagued her for her entire life, to the point where it became all-consuming, and he had a decent understanding of just how hard it was to recover.

Of course, he’d known about what TJ got up to in high school. Cyrus knew about the parties, about the drinking, about the drug-taking. For some reason, the thought never occurred to him that those habits would lead to the consequences they had. He didn’t think such a typical part of the teenage experience could contribute to something he’d only ever really seen in his mom and other adults within their old town. It was naive, he realised, to associate any age with alcoholism.

It wasn’t an overwhelming fear. It wasn’t one that induced the panicked thought his fears normally did. It was a feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, not profound by any means, but undeniably _there. _Cyrus could barely sleep that night because of it. He tossed restlessly from one side to another, away from the moonlight flooding in through his window, then towards it again when the darkness became too heavy. Briefly, his face was illuminated by the light from his phone as he checked the time, before being clouded by darkness once more.

Ultimately, he supposed it was the aggressive sigh he eventually let out that gave him away. TJ stirred, the sounds of rustling blankets accompanying his rough tone. 

“Why are you awake?” 

Cyrus smiled up at him from the mattress that they’d dragged out from under the bed, propping his head up on his hand. “I’m not.” 

He heard an amused scoff. “Yeah, okay. I guess this is a ghost I’m talking to, then?” 

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” 

TJ groaned as he shifted again, cracking an eye open. “Stop being difficult, I’m tired and I’m legally obligated to make sure you can sleep. Is the mattress not comfortable?” 

“No, it’s not that...” 

Silence fell for a moment, save from the traffic that was somehow still filling the streets below. TJ seemed awake all of a sudden, sitting up against the headboard with an expression that Cyrus could make out as concern.

“It’s nothing! I’m just not tired right now.”

He rolled over after that, so his back was facing TJ. Telling him about the thoughts that were filling his head was _not _an option in the slightest. The last thing he wanted to do was to make TJ feel guilty about something he had absolutely no control over. 

“Cyrus?” 

He didn’t say a word in response, figuring that he could somehow pretend he was going to sleep. He heard TJ let out a small sigh. 

“Cy,” he whined, dragging out the word, and Cyrus could feel the beginnings of a smile threatening to appear on his face. 

Still no response. His heart began to race slightly as TJ shifted again, getting up from the bed and walking over. He sat down, and Cyrus felt the mattress dip behind him. 

“We don’t have to talk, but at least come up to the bed,” he said, placing a gentle hand on Cyrus’ shoulder. 

Cyrus was smiling now, snuggling further into himself, and TJ must’ve noticed this because he laughed slightly. Amongst the quiet that filled the apartment, he heard muffled sounds of movement coming from the room beside them. Briefly, he wondered if Marty was awake too. 

“Don’t underestimate my immaturity here, Cy. I _will _poke you until you say something.” 

“Something,” he mumbled as he rolled over onto his back. 

His gaze met TJ’s, who was sat by the edge of the mattress with a tiny smile on his lips.

“Why are we friends again?” 

“Because you couldn’t resist me,” Cyrus teased, giving him a small, pathetic shove. In his defence, he really _was _tired. 

“Are you sure it’s not because _you _couldn’t resist _me_?”

Cyrus slowly began to sit up at that, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. “Want me to paint you a picture? It’s 11 pm, I’ve just had a breakdown, you’ve taken me to a roof because hey, friends without the strings the attached, right? Then, you look over at me all nervous-“

“I was _not _nervous!” 

“Oh yeah, definitely not,” Cyrus nodded, earning himself a playful swat. “Anyways! You look over at me, no nervousness whatsoever apparently, then you say...wait, I’ve forgotten what you said. What did you say? It was like...wait, hold on!” 

TJ had folded his arms stubbornly over his chest at this point, but even through the darkness Cyrus could tell there wasn’t any heat behind the glare he was directing at him. 

He feigned the saddest expression he possibly could, leaning over to place a hand on TJ’s arm. “...Maybe we could add a few strings?” 

TJ rolled his eyes as he watched Cyrus dissolve into laughter and flop back down onto the mattress. He lingered there for a moment before bringing his legs up and laying down, which had Cyrus falling quiet almost instantly. He shuffled over slightly to make room, directing his gaze pointedly towards the ceiling. 

There was silence between them for a moment, then TJ spoke, softer than before.

“Why can’t you sleep?” 

Cyrus felt a pang of guilt. 

_ Because I’m literally terrified that I’ll make the same mistakes with you that I did with my mom. Because recovery is hard, and relapse is easy. Because I don’t know what I’d do if I had to watch you go through it. _

“I don’t know,” he responded instead, voice barely a whisper. 

Finding some semblance of confidence, he shifted to face him. TJ mimicked the movement, and then it seemed their faces were inches apart. Cyrus shuffled backwards with a nervous laugh, back nearly hitting the wall behind him.

TJ’s gaze remained on his. “Wanna come up to the bed? It’s probably more comfortable.” 

And Cyrus nodded, despite knowing well his predicament had nothing whatsoever to do with comfort. He watched as TJ sat up again, lifting himself from the mattress and making his way over to the bed. Cyrus followed suit, albeit more hesitantly, and it must’ve shown because TJ looked over at him with a laugh once he’d laid down. 

“Are you okay? You seem tense.” 

Cyrus took a few deep breathes in, trying desperately to relax. “Yeah. I’m fine.” 

He was right by the edge of the bed, as far away from TJ as physically possible, and that’s where he would remain. 

“TJ?” he spoke up, mouth seemingly moving on its own accord. 

“Yeah?” 

Cyrus looked over at him, pausing for a brief moment. “Did you...or, I mean, _are _you seeing a therapist? For...you know...”

TJ seemed taken aback at that. He slowly turned to face him, expression lit up partially by the moonlight. He looked down at the space between them, as though only realising at that moment just how large it was.

“I saw one for a few years. When things got busy with acting we talked about what to do if things ever fluctuated, or if I relapsed, and agreed that if I started drinking then we would talk again.” 

“That’s...that’s good,” he nodded, letting out a breath.

TJ’s gaze remained on him, and Cyrus found himself shifting nervously under the weight of it, turning his focus towards the ceiling. The only thing he could really register at that moment was relief. He’d already seen a therapist, and he _still had _that therapist to turn to if things got rough. That was more than he could’ve ever said for his mom. 

“Sure you’re okay?” TJ asked softly.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” 

For what was probably seconds but felt more like minutes, neither of them said anything. Cyrus couldn’t help but look over at him, feeling torn. He didn’t like lying to TJ by any means, but this was something that was probably best to keep to himself._ Right? _

His mouth didn’t seem to agree however, because he lasted all of a few moments before he was blurting “I really don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” 

Even through the darkness, he could see TJ’s expression soften. 

“Hey, nothing’s gonna happen to me, okay? It’s been years since I’ve had a drink.” 

_ Nothing’s gonna happen to me. _

_ That phrase was familiar. _

“I know, but...if you ever, and I mean literally _ ever _, feel like anything’s gonna happen, you’ll call me, right?” 

“...Cy-“

“_Please _just promise,” Cyrus begged, desperation tinging his tone now. 

TJ hesitated, before giving a small nod that Cyrus could’ve easily missed had he been looking elsewhere. He felt another wave of relief wash over him. His phone lit up with a notification over by his mattress, but he couldn’t muster up the effort to walk back over now that he was laying down. 

Suddenly, the distance between him and TJ seemed far too much. Being alone in his hotel room was drastically different to his current situation; where he was usually relaxed, Cyrus found himself acutely aware of every single movement he made.

As if somehow reading his mind, TJ’s gaze returned to the space between them. He looked up at Cyrus’ face, before testing the waters by shuffling ever so slightly towards him. Cyrus hesitated before following suit.

TJ got closer, and closer, and closer, until both of them were towards the centre of the bed, laying inches apart. Cyrus was afraid that he’d somehow be able to hear his heart racing away in his chest at that point. 

Throwing caution to the wind, he turned over and wrapped his arms tightly around TJ, burying his face in the fabric of his shirt. The night sky, previously pitch black, had now become blended with the slightest hints of blue. The stars still burned, but as early morning approached they were beginning to fade out of view once more. A stillness blanketed them, one that Cyrus had only really encountered during the early hours of the morning. 

“Are you sure you promise?” he mumbled, raising his head briefly to look up at TJ. 

TJ smiled down at him. “Yeah. I promise.” 

“Okay,” he whispered, and the last thing he remembered before falling asleep was the soothing feeling of TJ’s fingers running through his hair. 

~

The moment Cyrus opened his eyes that morning he found himself closing them again with a groan. Blinding sunlight was pouring in through the parted curtains, and having only gotten a few hours of sleep, he was fully prepared to try and get some more. It took him all of about 10 seconds for him to realise that he wasn’t alone there, and once he had he was jolting upright, eyes fluttering open again.

“Sorry,” TJ winced from his side of the bed, phone in hand, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Cyrus blinked at him for a moment, trying hard to remember whether last night had been a scarily vivid dream. _Had he hugged TJ? Or was that his dream-self? _

“It’s fine,” he mumbled, voice still heavy with sleep as he half-heartedly began to look around for his phone. 

“It’s here,” said TJ, reaching over towards the bedside table, “I put it on charge like an hour ago, so it should be good for now.” 

There was a small, grateful smile on Cyrus’ face as he accepted his phone, still squinting slightly from the sunlight. He could see a strip of bright blue through the window, and the ever-present sounds of L.A. traffic were already in full swing. He took a moment to scroll through his notifications, kicking away the blanket that covered him. He came to an abrupt stop at one particular text, eyes widening ever so slightly. 

“Theo!” 

TJ looked over in slight alarm, setting his phone down and shuffling over. “What’s up?” 

“My mom accepted the therapy! She has her first appointment this Thursday!” 

Cyrus was laughing as he began to type back a response, beyond relieved at the development, and TJ grinned. 

“That’s great!” 

They must’ve made somewhat of a commotion, because Marty was knocking on the door soon enough and stepping inside, leaning up against the doorframe. 

“What’s the yelling for, cinnamon apple?” 

TJ offered Cyrus one last encouraging smile before getting up from the bed, expression unimpressed as he approached the door. 

“Those names are getting more and more obnoxious. Hey Cyrus, want some coffee?” 

“Yes please!” 

Marty lingered there for a moment once TJ had passed by, gaze flicking between the pair of them, before smiling faintly and following TJ towards the kitchen. Cyrus tried not to give it too much thought. 

He took the opportunity to draw the curtains closed and get changed into a random combination of clothes from TJ’s suitcase. In hindsight, he probably should’ve asked, but the bright smile TJ directed at him as he walked out seemed to suggest he didn’t have a problem with it. 

“A french tuck, huh?” 

Cyrus nodded and he took one of the bar stools, leaning his elbows on the counter as watched TJ flit around the kitchen. Marty was sat up on the counter waiting for toast, tapping away at his phone.

“Yeah. Some would call me a fashion icon.” 

TJ raised a playful eyebrow at that, lifting his gaze from the cutting board he’d set down towards Cyrus. 

“Cuff the jeans and I’ll consider it.” 

“Your request has been processed. Wait another 24 hours before leaving another,” said Cyrus as he stood up, leaning over to roll up the jeans. It was probably for the best anyway, considering that TJ’s clothes were slightly too big for him. 

Marty hopped down from the counter once his toast had finished, directing a smug smile at TJ of them as he reached up towards the top cupboard for a plate. 

“So...have I officially been replaced as your cuddle buddy, or...?” 

“Shut up Marty,” he groaned, face flushing slightly, “that was _one _time.” 

Cyrus looked between them for a moment, hit all at once by the realisation that he _ had hugged _ TJ last night. But that didn’t have to be a bad thing, right? If TJ minded, he would’ve said something. 

_ Right? _

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” Cyrus blurted, finding a sudden interest in examining the counter. The marble was grey and speckled, with sunlight from outside reflecting off it, and _oh gosh, _why could he feel TJ staring at him? 

He couldn’t keep himself from looking up again, only to find that TJ was watching him with a frown on his face. 

“What? No, not at all!” 

Marty nodded as he began to spread peanut butter onto his toast. “Yeah, TJ complains about wanting hugs all the time, anyway.”

“Have I ever mentioned how much I hate you?” TJ asked him with a glare, and Marty just laughed. 

“I hate you too,” he cooed as he crossed the kitchen, giving his friend’s head an affectionate pat. 

Another 5 minutes went by before they were settling down at the table much like they had the previous week, TJ and Cyrus with mugs of coffee and bowls of mango slices. This earned them both a strange look from Marty. 

“I have a PR meeting at 10 apparently,” TJ sighed as he placed down his phone. 

Cyrus looked over at that, eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “What for?” 

“I don’t know, they wouldn’t tell me.” 

Cyrus had attended his fair share of PR meetings over the years, and they usually had a tendancy to be pretty dull. He knew from experience however that spontaneous PR meetings with vague explanations were almost _never _a good thing. 

“When are we due on set again?” Cyrus asked, trying hard to keep that thought from showing on his face. 

“1:30. I think it’s a late-night shoot.” 

A pout formed on Marty’s face. “Does that mean you won’t be getting back here until like 2 am? I can’t hate-watch trashy reality TV by myself!”

Cyrus couldn’t help but laugh slightly at those words. TJ’s tired expression turned to one of fond exasperation.

“We can watch trashy reality TV together tomorrow,” he assured him, “I’ll bring home popcorn.” 

He didn’t think much of it when TJ announced he was going to get changed after breakfast, but when he re-emerged about 10 minutes later, his expression smoothed into one of shock. He was wearing dress pants and a long-sleeve collared shirt, looking as though he was ready for a highly-exclusive business meeting of some kind. Cyrus supposed he _was _in a way. 

He got up from his chair and wandered over, shaking his head. 

“Your collar’s messed up.” 

TJ gave him a sheepish smile, and Cyrus rolled his eyes as he stepped forward and began to fix it. His eyes travelled from where Cyrus’ hands were fixing his collar, right up to his face, and something about it seemed almost _shy. _

He brushed the thought away as he stepped back again, scanning for anything thing that had to be fixed. 

“I think you’re good.” 

“Thanks, mom,” TJ teased as though brought out of a trance, approaching the table and grabbing his phone.

Cyrus realised only after the fact that Marty had been watching their interaction from the couch, eyebrows raised in amusement, and an uneasy formed inside of him. He tried not to dwell on it, busying himself instead with locating his shoes. TJ was waiting by the front door for him once he had done, and Cyrus couldn’t help but smile when he stepped aside, allowing him through. 

“We’ll be back by 12, Marty!” TJ called over his shoulder. 

“Don’t die!” came the amused response, which had TJ scoffing. 

The heat was noticeable even in the darkness that filled the parking lot. The sun somehow seemed to be burning brighter than normal that day, warming places that were usually cool. He’d almost forgotten how unbearable summer days in L.A. could be. The streets they drove past seemed to have some sort of haze cast upon them, with people mostly remaining indoors to escape the sun. Cyrus couldn’t blame them. 

“We should’ve brought sunscreen,” he sighed as he leaned back in his seat. 

TJ threw him an amused glance. “We’re gonna be inside.” 

“_Yeah_, but to get there we’re gonna have to be outside.” 

“_Yeah, _for like, a few minutes at most.” 

“My sensitive skin can’t handle a few minutes!” Cyrus protested, and TJ just laughed. 

“I’ll shield you, then,” he proposed. 

“Using what?” 

“I think I have a jacket in the back somewhere.”

Cyrus considered this for a moment, before sighing again and giving a reluctant nod. “It’ll have to do.” 

When they arrived it was at one of the most generic office buildings Cyrus had seen in his life, made up of stained glass that allowed the crowds passing by to see through every office stall. Sleek white tiles spanned the main lobby, with a vending machine by the corner with rows and rows of bottled water. TJ had found the closest parking spot he possibly could to the front entrance, which Cyrus deemed an acceptable distance to walk without sunscreen. Once they were inside TJ lead him towards the elevator, shoes clacking slightly against the floor. 

“How long are your meetings usually?”

“It won’t be any longer than 20 minutes,” TJ promised him.

The elevator button for the floor TJ had selected glowed a pale yellow, only fading when they’d come to an abrupt stop. They walked past various meeting rooms, lit up by the sunlight streaming inside, and eventually TJ stopped in front of what Cyrus could only assume as his usual meeting room. 

“Good luck,” he smiled, and TJ returned it. 

He knocked lightly before opening the door and stepping inside. Cyrus scanned the area for a moment, eyes landing on a small couch towards the end of the hallway. The meeting rooms surrounding it appeared to be empty. He shrugged as he made his way over, figuring that he could use the time to call Andi at the very least. Buffy would likely be busy with work placements. 

He glanced around once more as he sat down, ensuring the rooms really_ were _empty, before pressing Andi’s contact. 

It was kind of concerning how fast she picked up, but then again, Cyrus shouldn’t have been surprised. Of the trio, she probably had her phone handy the most. 

“Cyrus! Hello!” 

Cyrus laughed. “Andi! Hello! I hope this isn’t a bad time-“ 

“It’s not, don’t worry! I’m having a coffee break right now, anyway. How are you? I miss you,” she complained, and Cyrus could practically _ see _the pout that was probably on her face. 

“I miss you too,” he returned, “and I’m okay, things have just been...busy.” 

“We have to catch up soon or I might die. Is anything interesting happening on set? How’s TJ?” 

“We do! I was actually gonna ask if I could stay with you guys at home this weekend? Shooting’s the same, and TJ’s um...he’s good. We went rollerskating the other day.”

“Uh, yes you absolutely can! I’m downloading the movies and buying the face masks as we speak. Well, not really, but I will later. Ugh, no offence Cy, but you’re the worst to go rollerskating with. You’re too experienced for your own good.”

“Hey!” he laughed, “TJ was good at rollerskating too, so it was actually fun! Sorry you’re not on my level.” 

Cyrus could hear the smile in Andi’s voice. “You two seem to be really hitting it off. Whatever happened to that ‘no strings attached’ thing?”

He felt his face warm slightly. “I don’t know,” he confessed, “but we’re friends now. Like - actual friends. He’s cool.” 

“...He’s also pretty...dare I say...cute?” 

“Andi!” he accused, smiling slightly at her responding laughter, “we’re _friends!_”

“Okay, okay,” she relented, “I have to get back to the studio, but I’ll talk to you later, okay? Love you!” 

“Love you too,” he returned, softer now. 

There was a time when Cyrus was whole-heartedly set on leaving to L.A. on his own. At times like this, he couldn’t be more grateful that Buffy and Andi had convinced him otherwise. 

It was about 10 more minutes before TJ was leaving his meeting room, eyes finding Cyrus immediately. Something about his expression seemed nervous as he made his way over.

“What was it about?” he asked, setting down his phone. 

TJ couldn’t seem to meet his gaze as he sat down. “Um...” 

Cyrus waited a moment longer, before placing a hand on TJ’s arm. “Was it bad?” 

“No! Or - maybe. I don’t know. Do you um...do you ever read stuff about yourself? Like articles?” 

Cyrus shook his head no. He’d stopped doing that when he realised just how obsessed he was getting with reading negativity about himself online. Now, he even struggled with positivity.

“Me neither,” TJ nodded, taking in a breath, “but um...apparently there’s been a bunch of articles speculating that we’re dating off-screen. They have pictures from outside that Italian restaurant, and in the rollerskating place."

His stomach dropped. Andi teasing him was one thing, but people _online? _He supposed he should’ve seen it coming, but it still managed to throw him for a loop. They acted like all friends did together. _Right? _

“What should we do?” asked Cyrus. 

“That’s the thing. My team thinks that...” TJ trailed off, shooting him a nervous glance.

“Thinks what?” 

“Well, it’s been getting both of us a lot of attention. _And _the movie.” 

Cyrus _really _didn't like where this was going, and it must’ve shown on his face because TJ seemed apologetic. 

“They think we should ‘play it up’ a bit for the cameras.”

In his years of acting, Cyrus had very safely avoided situations like these. He knew what they did to friendships, and he knew well what it could do to _their _friendship if they went through with it. Some people were able to play it up without any worries, but the awkwardness that ensued for most was enough to tear those relationships apart. 

He looked over at TJ again, who was looking down at his lap. Cyrus sighed. 

“We can’t,” he said. 

“I know. But...it doesn’t have to make things weird, right? We know we’re friends.” 

_ Except everyone else in the world won’t know that, _Cyrus thought to himself, somewhat hysterically. 

He swallowed, mind racing with all the ways this could become a mess. 

“How about we just don’t say anything? We don’t have to play it up, but we don’t have to deny it either.” 

TJ considered this for a moment, before giving a small nod. “That could work.” 

Cyrus hesitated, taking note of the guilt-ridden look on his face, before leaning over and gently resting his head on TJ’s shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

TJ gave him an unconvincing smile. “Yeah. I’m fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "GAY RIGHTS!"  
-me while writing this chapter 
> 
> Kudos/comments are appreciated as always if you liked the chapter!! <3


	10. Chocolate Chocolate Chip Muffin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO! Another update because school got out let out early today <3
> 
> TW: brief mentions of alcoholism

_September 6th, 2019_

TJ wasn’t exactly sure what it was about that meeting that had him awake the following nights thinking. Well — that was he a lie — he certainly had an  _idea_, but he didn’t particularly like it. Because  _yeah_, a part of him had almost hoped that Cyrus wouldn’t be so opposed to playing things up between them. And  _yeah_, he‘d felt the slightest amount of hurt knowing that all of their interactions had been a little too friendly at most. 

That didn’t mean he  _liked_ Cyrus, though. Did it? 

After almost a week, TJ was beginning to grow tired of the way he was feeling around Cyrus. It was as though a certain pressure had appeared all of a sudden, an insistent voice in the back of his mind warning him that Cyrus _couldn’t_ know. It was a horrible feeling, given that TJ had rapidly grown comfortable enough to tell Cyrus virtually anything that crossed his mind, but  _this_? The stupid butterflies that had made a home in his stomach, the light flutteriness that filled him whenever Cyrus would laugh at one his cheesy jokes and tell him what an idiot he was?  _That _was something he could never know about. 

It was ridiculous when TJ thought about it. He’d gone into this confident that his dislike for Cyrus would only grow upon meeting him, that all he would have to worry about over these six months would be ensuring the animosity between them wouldn’t affect his acting. Now here he was, pretty certain that after years of insisting to himself that he would always be too busy for romance, he now liked  _Cyrus Goodman _of all people. 

A part of TJ couldn’t help but be frustrated. For his whole life, he’d managed to push away any semblance of romantic feeling towards other guys. He kissed girls at parties, desperately chasing any sort of spark he could, and Marty had always been there to pick up the pieces when he realised yet again that forcing himself to like girls would never work. Then, he dove right into his work and focused only on furthering his career, barely leaving time for himself to experience love or romance outside of a movie set. 

Without even trying it seemed, Cyrus had walked right into his life with those  _eyes_, that looked so nice when they were lit up by laughter, and that  _smile, _soft when he was being genuine and exasperated when TJ would go about with his usual antics. At first, he wasn’t entirely sure why he had taken to Cyrus so much. Now, however, as he read over their lines for that day, he knew why. 

He knew why he felt so guilty at the prospect of ‘playing things up’ between them for the cameras. It was because for  _him, _there’d be feelings involved. For  _him_, it would be real, and nothing terrified him more. 

It was perfect really (depending on how you looked at it) that Cyrus chose that moment to throw the trailer door open and walk right on in, snapping TJ out of his daze. 

“I am  so  glad they have air conditioners in these things because I think I almost burned to death out there,” he sighed out, gently kicking the door shut behind him and sitting himself down on the couch beside TJ. 

He blinked for a moment or two, face flushing slightly in a way he knew wasn’t from the heat, before offering him a smile. 

“Cyrus Goodman? Going outside  _unnecessarily_? ”

“Ha,” he said, before placing a muffin on the small table beside them. “The only worthwhile trip is to the catering truck, where I got you that chocolate chocolate chip muffin by the way, out of the kindness of my heart.” 

TJ raised a confused eyebrow. “That’s a weird way of saying double chocolate chip muffin.” 

Cyrus gave him an accusatory look. “What? Who calls it that?” 

“Me!” TJ laughed, “and everyone else on the planet, I’m pretty sure.” 

Cyrus just shook his head. “That’s outrageous. I‘m starting a petition! Chocolate chocolate chip muffin or nothing.” 

TJ had to take a moment then because  god , someone should make it illegal for Cyrus get so stupidly,  _adorably_ stubborn over the smallest things. He was about to speak when Cyrus’ gaze dropped to the mini sides he was still holding, a smile immediately replacing his frown. TJ watched, nerves flaring up inside him, as Cyrus took the mini sides and skimmed over them. He placed them down on the couch beside him and turned to face him.

“Noah, I care about you, okay? I don’t wanna see you get hurt.” 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wanted to practise the lines. TJ had  _ not  _ prepared himself for this.  _

He took in a deep breath, before schooling his expression and forcing himself to meet Cyrus’ gaze. 

“Miles, I have to go. I’m sorry.” 

For once, he actually felt somewhat confident that he had these lines memorised, but his heart rate began to soar regardless. 

Cyrus folded his arms over his chest, his stubborn expression scarily resembling that of his usual one. “Then I’m going with you.”

Despite knowing well that it was part of the script, TJ almost jumped when Cyrus shuffled closer and placed a gentle hand on his arm. His eyes flickered down to it, before returning to Cyrus. 

“They need you down here for the plan to work. You know that.”

“Then...” Cyrus paused, letting out a defeated sigh, “then... _god,_ I swear, if you die I’m literally going resurrect you and then kill you again!” 

TJ raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Strong words from someone so small.”

“I’m not small. You’re just a giant.”

TJ gave him a fond smile, before carefully pulling his arm from Cyrus’ grip. 

“I’ll see you on the flipside, Miles.” 

They lingered there for a moment, then Cyrus was laughing and moving away again, putting some distance between them. TJ hated the way his heart sank, but, like he always did, he managed to push the feeling down. 

“Things are getting pretty romantic between Miles and Noah,” he said.

Cyrus smiled and nodded in agreement, shuffling over some more so that he could lay down. “I hope they keep it in because I’m already picturing the horrified faces of straight parents and it’s a wonderful image.” 

TJ gave his leg a playful poke, which had Cyrus narrowing his eyes at him. 

“You’re hogging the couch.” 

“Oh, am I?” he responded innocently, shuffling down further so as to take up more room, “I deeply apologise.” 

TJ snorted. “You can be a little annoying, you know that?”

“Hey, who got you the chocolate chocolate chip muffin?” 

“What’s that?” asked TJ, feigning a confused look, and Cyrus let out what sounded like a genuine gasp. 

“Theo Kippen!”

Fully expecting a ramble of some kind, TJ just smiled, but to his dismay a sharp knock on his trailer door had Cyrus pausing in his tracks. He sat up and made his way over, pulling it open and allowing sunlight to flood inside.

“You guys are due on set soon,” a voice said.

Cyrus nodded. “We’ll be right out.” 

TJ grabbed the muffin and pocketed his phone before getting to his feet, squinting slightly when he was met by the bright midday sun. A seemingly endless stretch of blue accompanied it, and he was hit by the typical dryness of L.A. summer as he began to descend the stairs, following Cyrus. 

The set wasn’t far from base camp, and immediately upon entering the building they were both whisked away to have their hair and make-up touched up. It was relatively dark inside, with bright lights illuminating the green screen that the crew were preparing for the shoot. Somehow, TJ was always surprised by how vastly the scene they shot differed to the one they saw on screen. In the movie, he knew chaos and the remains of a collapsed building would be behind them as they spoke. During production however, all they had was a green backdrop. 

A few of their castmates lingered behind, talking amongst themselves, and even from within the make-up room he could hear the director’s instructions, firm but calm as they always were.

Once they’d run a few of their lines and everyone was happy with how the scene was blocked, they prepared to shoot the scene, emotions and all. TJ took a few breaths, nerves flaring up in a way they normally didn’t. 

Their first take was ruined by background noise before they could complete it. TJ was able to shrug this off and remain in character, taking a few more deep breathes as he waited for the retake. 

Everything was perfectly fine during their second take. That is — until Cyrus stepped forward and gently took his arm. TJ’s brain seemed to choose that moment to shut down completely, and he was left there, staring back at Cyrus, a mixture of jittery nervousness and shock rising up inside of him.

A hint of uncertainty flashed across Cyrus’ face, as though surprised by the reaction. Then, he was moving even closer and taking TJ’s hand and  _holy crap_, that wasn’t part of the script. 

“Please?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

They hadn’t been stopped yet, so TJ rolled with it, snapping himself out of his daze.

“They need you down here for the plan to work. You know that.” 

Cyrus let out an aggressive sigh, desperation turning quickly to frustration. 

“Then...then  _god_, I swear, if you die I’m literally going resurrect you and then kill you again!” 

TJ smiled and carefully pulled his hand from Cyrus’ grip. “Strong words from someone so small.”

“ I’m not small,” he huffed, “you’re just a giant.”

TJ took a step back, shaking his head in fond amusement. “I’ll see you on the flipside, Miles.” 

The cameras rolled for a few more moments, so he raised his hand in one last wave and turned around to walk away, stopping seconds later when the director yelled “Cut!” 

TJ relaxed slightly at the impressed look on her face. “That was great, guys! TJ, I really liked that pause you added. Could we get that same emotion for the next few takes?”

They both nodded at that, exchanging a small smile. 

It was a scary realisation, one that TJ had fended off for as long as he possibly could, but he had to accept it. Shooting these scenes with Cyrus _barely_ required him to get into character anymore. 

~

_September 7th, 2019_

That Saturday brought the slightest amount of relief following a week of burning heat. There was a light breeze gusting by TJ and Marty as they walked, ruffling their hair, and fluffy clouds drifted by peacefully above them, carried by it. It seemed the haze had broken and the streets were alive all of a sudden, with chatter and laughter filling the air as people went about their days. 

“What are we getting again?” asked TJ. 

Marty glanced down at the list in his hands. They’d invited Cyrus and friends over for that afternoon, and to say he’d been stressing all morning was a total understatement. TJ couldn’t help but think it had everything to do with Buffy, but he managed to bite back all of his playful remarks. 

“We have chicken at home, but we need veggies for the salad and cream for dessert. Oh —  and snacks!” 

TJ nodded, trying hard to keep the amused smile off his face as they rounded a corner. Marty glanced over at him, huffing when he noticed that TJ had slid on his heart-shaped glasses. 

“You look like a diva, you know that?” 

“You look like you’re panicking for no reason, you know that?” 

Marty couldn’t help but laugh. “Touché.”

A few minutes of relative silence passed, giving TJ’s mind the opportunity to wander. Of course, just as they had for the past week, his thoughts returned to Cyrus. These feelings were all new for him after all, and he had no clue whatsoever how to handle them. He felt as though crushes were something he  _should’ve_ learnt how to handle during middle school,  _high school_ even, but with his attention focused solely on trying desperately to get himself to like girls, it seemed he was learning a bit later than everyone else was. 

TJ found himself blurting the words before he could stop himself. 

“How do you know you like someone?” 

Marty’s eyes widened almost comically. He looked over at TJ, shock painted across his face. It took a few moments, but he eventually managed to reign his surprise back in. 

“Wow, um...” 

TJ couldn’t blame him. Acknowledging his own romantic feelings was something that had rarely, if ever, happened in all their years of knowing one another. 

“I’m gonna make this easy for you, TJ,” he said after a few seconds of delay, “you like him.” 

He looked over at Marty, who’s smile almost seemed apologetic. TJ let out a sigh. 

“You‘ve known this whole time?” he asked.

Marty laughed slightly. “No offence dude, but you look at Cyrus like he’s the literal light of your life.” 

He let out a mortified groan at that. “What do I  _do?_” he asked desperately, “this is so unprofessional! And even if he somehow  _did_ like me back, it’s not like anything could happen! What if we broke up or something? How would that affect our scenes?”

Marty just shook his head though. “TJ Kippen, this is the first guy you’ve liked in forever and I am  not letting you ruin this for yourself. Screw professionalism! Cute boys are more important!” 

TJ threw him a disbelieving look as they entered their local grocery store. “Screw professionalism?” 

“Okay, maybe not entirely,” Marty conceded, “but seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you click with someone so fast. It’s obvious he makes you happy, and after the hell you’ve been through, you deserve to be happy.”

“He does, but...” TJ trailed off, sighing, “you know how I told you about what my PR team said? You should’ve  _seen_ Cyrus’ reaction. He was so quick to say no.” 

TJ was trailing behind Marty as he roamed the isles, looking for the ingredients he needed. At those words, however, he turned around to face him. 

“Hm. Well, I have a solution to that.” 

TJ’s eyebrows furrowed slightly with confusion.“How can you have a solution to that?” 

“Talk to him,” he said with an easy grin, “he was probably just nervous like you were.” 

“Thanks for the suggestion! It’ll be processed within the next twelve business days and subsequently rejected,” said TJ, smiling at the exasperated huff Marty let out. 

“You kill me sometimes, you know that?” 

“I love you too, cinnamon apple,” TJ mocked, patting his head. 

He watched as Marty reached the fruit section, eyes scanning for a moment before landing on the blueberries. 

“What’s with the blueberries? I swear you feed them to me constantly,” said TJ, accepting the basket Marty handed over to him.

“They have antioxidants,” he explained, sifting through the punnets, “so you don’t get sick while you film.” 

TJ felt his smile soften. “Aww,” he cooed, “that’s actually sweet.” 

“I take my job very seriously,” Marty nodded, dropping a punnet of blueberries into the basket.

TJ scoffed. “ _Job?”_

“Yup. Job,” he confirmed with a smile.

Late afternoon was approaching when the pair arrived home, making quick work of storing away their groceries. The sunlight pouring in through the windows now appeared to be tinged with gold, and the couch was so warm when TJ sat down that he almost had the urge to take a power nap before Cyrus, Andi and Buffy were all due to arrive. Marty collapsed down beside him, resting his head on TJ’s shoulder. 

The apartment, although usually in relative order, seemed to be totally spotless. There wasn’t a thing out of place on any shelves, and the carpet looked as though it had been vacuumed then re-vacuumed. He looked down at Marty, frowning slightly at the worry that was written all over his face. 

“You okay?” he asked, giving his shoulder a small squeeze. 

Marty took in a breath. “I’ve been texting with Buffy since that night at the restaurant. And she’s awesome! But...” he trailed off for a moment. “We both like each other. Which is great, obviously, but I don’t know if she’ll still like me if she finds out I’m trans.”

TJ nodded in understanding. “If it means anything, I don’t think Cyrus would be friends with her if she was like that.”

“I guess so.” 

TJ thought about it a moment longer, before pulling his phone out from his pocket. “I think this calls for an investigation.” 

A smile flickered across Marty’s face. “With your totally legit detective skills?” 

“Exactly!” TJ nodded. 

He opened twitter, like the detective he was, and went to Buffy’s profile. By then, he had become well-versed in using Twitter’s advanced search options. 

“Scrolling...scrolling...oh, here!” he announced, showing Marty the screen, “she retweeted Cyrus’ tweet about respecting trans people.” 

Marty took a moment to scan over the tweet. “So...do you think it’d be okay for me to come out to her?” 

“Only if you’re comfortable,” said TJ, smiling gently as he pulled him in, “if she actually likes you, it shouldn’t change anything.” 

He nodded, before resting his head once again on TJ’s shoulder. A stillness settled around them, and as the golden afternoon sun continued to stream inside, he could feel drowsiness begin to wash over him. 

“Power nap before they get here?” he asked, and Marty gave a quick nod. 

”I’ll set an alarm then.” 

The sky was a gradient of reds and pinks by the time TJ’s alarm went off, jarring to both of their ears. He winced and reached blindly for his phone, eyes still closed as he stopped it. Marty groaned beside him as he shifted, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Why did we think that was a good idea?” he mumbled. 

TJ managed to gather up the effort required to stand up, and with a tired smile, he extended a hand to Marty. 

“I don’t know, but we should probably get ready.” 

“Probably,” came the begrudging response. 

Somehow, acknowledging his feelings out loud to Marty had solidified them. His brain has redoubled its efforts to bring all of his thoughts back to Cyrus, and he could feel nervousness beginning to form in the pit of his stomach as he stepped out of the shower and rummaged around for a change of clothes. Usually, he was pretty confident in the things he did, but romantic feelings were something he had kept strictly locked away at all costs. Now that he was finally allowing himself to feel them, it felt as though a whole new array of emotions had opened up to him. He was used to feeling anxious about talking to certain people, but never in the butterfly-inducing way he was experiencing at that moment, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he liked it. 

By the same token however, a part of him couldn’t help but feel excited. He wasn’t in Shadyside anymore, and he certainly wasn’t being held back by his dad. Finally, he felt as though he could breathe. Like he _could_ like guys if he wanted to, like he _could_ flirt if he wanted to. 

Granted, he wasn’t entirely sure if Cyrus liked him back, and sadness came over him anytime he gave it too much thought. 

It was dark in Marty’s apartment by the time they heard a knock at the front door. Various lamps illuminated the living room, bathing it in a yellow glow, and Marty had already set out a plate of snacks. 

He was across the room in almost a second, which had Marty laughing as he pulled open the door. 

“Hey!” he greeted, “come in.” 

Buffy was the first to step inside, offering him a smile as she passed him. He glanced back towards Marty, who greeted her with an excited “Hi!”, and he barely managed to contain a laugh. 

“So you’re TJ, huh?” Andi asked him, coming to a stop. 

TJ grinned. “I think so, yeah. You’re Andi, right?” 

“I am! And I heard you’re into dirt biking?” 

“Oh dear,” Cyrus mumbled under his breath.

“Yeah! I’m guessing you are too?” he asked as he pushed the door closed behind them with a gentle thud. 

“I think you might be my new favourite person,” she said seriously, standing up on her tip-toes and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 

TJ glanced back at Cyrus, laughing as Andi lead him over to the couch. 

“Hello to you too!” Cyrus called out playfully.

“Who are you again?” asked TJ, feigning a confused look. 

And so, with a movie playing quietly in the background, Buffy and Marty chatting away on the opposite end of the couch, Andi and TJ discussed dirt-biking until Cyrus deemed it had gone on long enough and inserted himself between them, earning him a laugh from both of them. 

“I’m not saying that you guys should start paying attention to me, but you guys should start paying attention to me.” 

“Okay, then. How’s life on set, guys?” asked Andi. 

“Life on set is good! Cyrus, don’t you have a fun story to tell from two days ago?” 

_That_ had Cyrus directing a glare at him. 

“Oh, do tell!” said Andi, clapping her hands together, and Cyrus let out a sigh.

“Fine. We were filming a stunt scene yesterday, so TJ needed a stunt-double...”

Andi began to giggle. “I have a feeling I know where this is going, but please continue.”

Cyrus shifted, placing a casual hand on the couch behind TJ. 

“Okay, well...TJ’s a cat person, right? So naturally, I saw this cute cat video on my timeline, and I thought ‘oh yay TJ would like this!’ And, let me just preface this by saying that this guy looked  _stupidly_ similar to TJ from the back.” 

“Oh no,” Andi shook her head, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. 

“So...I saw TJ’s stunt double standing nearby, and I yelled ‘hey idiot, get over here! I have a cat video!’” 

Andi snorted at that, burying her face in Cyrus’ shoulder. “Oh my  _god_ Cyrus, you couldn’t have just used his name?” 

“Yeah, I personally think that’s karma for insulting me, Cy,” said TJ, and Cyrus gave him a playful shove. 

“Oh, hush. Anyways! He turned around and looked at me like I was totally insane, which was completely valid. Moral of the story — never let me interact with another human again.” 

“Well, at least you didn’t willingly chug a litre of ranch last week,” Andi shrugged. 

Cyrus and TJ turned to her almost instantly, matching expressions of shock on their faces.

“Is there something I don’t know about you, Andi?” asked Cyrus.

Andi just laughed. “No, I just have an, um... inte resting guy at my art studio.” 

“Please elaborate,” TJ said, “I need to know more about this ranch dude.”

“What’s this about a ranch dude?” Marty piped up. 

Andi leaned back against the couch at that, leaving TJ with a clear view of Marty, who had an armed wrapped around Buffy’s shoulders. He felt a smile appear on his face almost instantly. 

“I might as well tell you guys about him, too. Basically — in case you couldn’t tell — he  _really_ likes ranch, and one day...”

Deep blues faded to black outside as the hours crept by. Marty retreated to the kitchen to begin cooking, followed soon by Cyrus, who felt obligated to help, which left TJ alone to talk with Buffy and Andi. Darkness filled the apartment around them during dinner, kept at bay by a bright light Marty had flicked on in the kitchen. TJ managed to maintain his composure, although it really  was tested  when Cyrus began directing soft smiles at him during dessert that had his whole face heating up in an instant.

It was when Cyrus, Andi, Buffy were all collecting their things, preparing to head home for the night, that a sharp knock filled the apartment. TJ threw Marty a confused look but moved forward regardless, pulling the front door open. 

It took him a few moments to register what was happening, but once he had, he felt a bright grin spread across his face. 

“I thought you were coming next week!” he exclaimed. 

Amber’s smile was glowing as he dropped her bag to the floor and pulled him into a tight hug. She buried her face in the crook of TJ’s neck, and her perfume smelt so much like home that he suddenly found himself missing it. 

TJ stepped back to allow her into the apartment, and Marty was next to engulf her in a hug. 

“Well if it isn’t Amber Kippen.” 

“The one and only,” she returned, smirking slightly as she pulled away. 

She turned to the trio next, eyes scanning over them as though trying to remember their names.

“Hey! I’m Amber, TJ’s sister,” she greeted.

“I’ve seen you on Twitter,” Andi piped up, smiling as she stepped forward and extended a hand. “I’m Andi, that’s Cyrus, and that's Buffy.”

And if their gaze remained on one another for a moment too long, TJ wouldn’t tell. 

~ 

Later that night when the excitement had well and truly winded down, TJ was sat with Amber on the couch. With the lights all flicked off, they were left with a clear view through the large window in Marty’s living room. Lights flashed below them and cars zoomed by, but somehow, it was peaceful. It had all become one big hum of noise the longer they remained there. 

Amber set her tea down, directing her focus towards TJ.

“So, how have things been?” 

TJ almost wanted to laugh. So much had happened over the past month, it was honestly hard to describe. One thing had remained present since his arrival in L.A., however.

“Well...” he paused for a moment, taking in a breath, “I’ve been getting a lot more cravings since I’ve gotten here for some reason. I‘m not sure if it’s because there are more opportunities here to see people drinking, but...it’s messing me up a bit.” 

Amber nodded, moving across the couch to settle beside him. “But you haven’t relapsed, right?” 

“No,” TJ assured her, “and I really  _really_ don’t want to.” 

She nodded. “Have you been avoiding places where there might be alcohol?” 

TJ bit his lip, because  _no, _he honestly couldn’t say he had, but that seemed almost impossible in L.A. sometimes. A part of him felt embarrassed that he even _had_ to avoid any situation that could lead to people drinking, because even after all these years, he somehow still couldn’t bear the sight. 

“I’ve been trying to...whether I actually have is another thing.” 

Amber looked over at him, expression soft. “There’s nothing wrong with needing to avoid certain situations, TJ,” she said, as though reading his mind, “you’re just doing what’s best for you.” 

“I know,” he sighed out, despite not being entirely sure, “but it’s just...frustrating.” 

“I know,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. 

A few minutes of silence followed, and TJ watched absently as cars continued to pass by below. He leaned into Amber’s embrace, feeling himself begin to relax slightly. 

“He’s cute,” Amber said eventually, clearly trying to change the topic.

TJ knew instantly who she was referring to. 

“I guess so,” he shrugged.

She looked up at him then, a smile tugging at her lips. “So, what’s it like pretending to fall in love with Cyrus Goodman?

“Miles Carter,” he corrected, “but uh...it’s okay.” 

Amber raised an eyebrow at that, but she seemed to decide against saying anything more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breaking news: I love Amber Kippen!!!! 
> 
> Kudos/comments are appreciated as always if you enjoyed the chapter <3


	11. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy stays over at Cyrus' hotel for a night. Cyrus recieves a call from his mom. TJ has a interview with a YouTube channel (that he can't seem to remember the name of.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm pretty happy with this chapter, so I hope you guys like it! <3

_September 13th, 2019_

The hotel was quiet that evening, save for the usual sounds of traffic below. The curtains were drawn shut, and the light from Cyrus’ phone illuminated his face as he turned towards his friend. Buffy was sat up against the headboard beside him, eyes darting across the pages of a book. She smiled when she noticed his gaze on her. 

“What’s up?”

Cyrus looked away again, smiling too now. 

“This reminds me of high school,” he said, and it was true. It brought him back to quiet nights in Shadyside, when words weren’t necessary and they’d both sit together reading. Reading quickly became studying during their junior and senior years, but they were still some of the times Cyrus had felt most peaceful. When moonlight lit up Buffy’s room, or on cloudier days when rain pattered down on their roof, and they’d stop for a moment to make themselves hot chocolate. During Spring, when the sky was a bright gradient of pink during sunset, or during winter, when they’d put on soft music to drown out the howling wind outside. It was when Cyrus was at Buffy’s place, away from his mom, that he could finally relax. 

“Same here,” she responded after a moment, smile softening. “Those were the only times I actually _liked _studying.”

“No wonder the teachers loved us.”

“We were angels,” Buffy agreed, “especially you.” 

They both sat for a moment, silently reminiscing. Buffy closed her book and placed it down on the bed beside her, shifting to face Cyrus. There was a lamp on in the corner, the shade that covered it producing a mute kind of glow that was so gentle it barely illuminated her face. 

“Do you ever think about what TJ was like back then?” 

Cyrus let out a nervous laugh at that, almost scared to admit how much he often found himself thinking about that. He tried not to let it show on his face. 

“Yeah,” he admitted, “it’s kind of weird to think that both him and Marty were there with us. I don’t even really remember seeing Marty much.” 

Buffy paused for a moment, turning the words over in her head.

“I don’t think either of us even spoke to him. Or TJ. I just remember beating his time during track. He had just transferred so he had no idea what was coming,” she said, a proud glint in her eye that never failed in bringing a smile to Cyrus’ face. 

“Me too, now that you mention it,” he said, grinning, “have you brought that up with him?” 

“Multiple times,” she confirmed, and Cyrus laughed. 

Another brief silence followed. Cyrus could see from the look on Buffy’s face that she wanted to say something more. He had a slight suspicion as to what it was.

“Remember those parties TJ used to throw?” he asked, hesitant now.

Buffy nodded. “Yeah...and how he used to show up high at school with Reed sometimes? Now he doesn’t even drink, apparently.” 

Cyrus felt himself freeze. “What makes you say that?” he asked quickly.

“Marty told me after that night at the restaurant,” she explained, visibly taken aback, “he said TJ doesn’t really drink that much anymore. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah! Yeah, sorry,” he said, scolding himself internally.

Cyrus had no idea if TJ was comfortable with other people knowing about his problems with drinking which, thinking about it now, was something he should probably asked him.

Despite seeming curious now, Buffy didn’t press any further. All she did was offer him a smile. 

“Well, he seems different now, anyway. He looks happier.” 

Cyrus’ stomach turned. He knew now what had been going on behind closed doors after all, and a part of him wished he could’ve somehow reached out to TJ during their time at school. Then again, if he’d been pushing Marty away, he probably wouldn’t have had much luck. 

“Yeah...he does.”

He moved across the bed then, sinking down into the mattress slightly as he settled beside Buffy and rested his head on her shoulder.

The words were on the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill right out. He’d nearly forgotten about it, having not paid it much mind back then, but now that they were discussing high school...

“I talked to him,” he said suddenly, gaze trained on the door. His view was obscured slightly by the darkness, and despite not being able to see Buffy, he knew the puzzled look that would likely be on her face. 

“Talked to who?” she asked.

“TJ,” he clarified, “well, neither of us actually spoke. But...” he bit his lip slightly, guilt rising up his throat at the memory.

“You mean in high school?” 

He gave a quick nod. Finally, he was able to pry to his gaze away from the door and look up at her, shaking his head. 

“Remember when Andi dragged us to our first party in senior year?” 

Buffy nodded, eyebrows still drawn together in confusion. 

“Well...I saw him across the room. He was with a girl. He looked at me, and it kind of psyched me out so I went into another room.” 

It was all somewhat fuzzy for Cyrus, but the one thing that had seemed to have imprinted itself into his brain was TJ’s gaze, how it burned like the cigarette in his hand, and the shock he’d felt at TJ actually acknowledging his existence. 

Buffy was looking at him now, clearly waiting for him to continue. So he did. 

“Then, later on, I was trying to find Andi so I went upstairs. I thought I could hear crying from one of the rooms, so I looked without thinking and...it was TJ.” 

Buffy’s features smoothed out with shock. “Did you find out why?” 

“I didn’t exactly stick around for a conversation,” he said, feeling a pang of regret even now as he thought about it. “Even _my _innate urge to help people isn’t that strong.”

All Cyrus could really remember from that instance was darkness, and the way TJ’s face shone with tears. He remembered how quickly TJ’s alarmed expression was replaced with annoyance, and he remembered slamming the door shut again with so much force it produced a loud, echoing bang. He didn’t see any recognition on TJ’s face the following day when he looked at him, and Cyrus came to assume that he hadn’t recognised who it was in the dark. 

“Let’s stop thinking about high school!” said Buffy, clearly sensing the direction his thoughts were taking, “there’s a bunch of puppy videos on YouTube we still haven’t watched and I deem that a crime.”

Cyrus couldn’t help but laugh. “It _is _a crime. We should change that.” 

By the time midnight rolled around Buffy was fast asleep beside him, an arm thrown up to cover her face, and Cyrus found himself wide awake as he stared up at the ceiling. He’d always struggled with sleep, but something about recalling that encounter only a few hours prior had his mind reeling. He’d tossed restlessly from one side to the other, burying his face into the silk pillow beneath him, only to eventually end up on his back with no hope of sleep washing over him anytime soon. 

His phone began to buzz, alerting him to an incoming call, and he began to fumble around for it, fully intending to decline it. His stomach dropped when he saw the caller ID however, he got up out of the bed as quickly as he possibly could without generating too much noise. Buffy shifted, and Cyrus’ heart stopped for a moment, thinking that the shift in weight had woken her up. She didn’t move after a few seconds, and Cyrus let out a breath before straightening again, padding over to the bathroom and slowly pushing the door aside. A wince crossed his face when bright, harsh light flooded the room, and he stepped inside before he could think twice, pulling the door shut again. 

It was a modern-looking bathroom, with spotless white tiles, and Cyrus leaned back against the wall as he accepted the call and brought the phone up to his ear, heart in his throat. 

“Mom?” 

“Hey Cy,” she said, and Cyrus’ shoulders relaxed. 

_She was sober. _

“How are you?” he asked quietly, moving towards the furthest corner from the door. 

“I’m good,” she said, letting out a breath, “I had my second session yesterday, and...it’s hard, but I’m glad I agreed to it. I’ve been getting really bad headaches though...the doctor thinks it’s a withdrawal symptom. I know two weeks probably doesn’t like much of an accomplishment, but-“ 

“Mom,” he interrupted, laughing slightly, “two weeks is amazing! I’m so proud of you!”

“...Thanks, hon.”

There was a short pause on the other end, and it took Cyrus a few moments to realise that she was crying now, judging by her shuddering breaths. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked, and for a few more seconds, he was met with silence. 

“Cyrus...I just...I feel like I haven’t apologised. I was never there for you when you needed it. I didn’t go to your graduation...I left you alone all those nights...I didn’t even realise you wanted to become an actor until that night before you left. I should’ve been there. I should’ve been there while you were planning all this. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

Cyrus brought a hand to his mouth for a moment, shaking his head.

“It’s okay,” he managed to get out, determined not to cry. 

“It’s not,” came the shaky response, “and you have every right to be mad at me. I hope you know that. You’re always thinking about other people, Cy, but for once...if you don’t want me to call you, just tell me, okay? And I won’t.” 

“Mom...” he trailed off, swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat, “I’d never want that. Ever. I love you, and I want you to be okay.”

“...Only if you’re sure.”

He relaxed slightly at that. “I’m 100% sure.” 

“Okay, then...How are you, by the way? How’s the movie going?” 

“The movie’s going good! We’re about two months in now, so almost half-way.” 

“I can’t wait to see it! And...how’s TJ? Rumour has it you two have been hanging out.”

Cyrus shook his head at that, smiling slightly, “TJ’s good, and we _have _been hanging out, which every news outlet seems to have latched onto.” 

“They’ll run with anything these days,” his mom agreed, before hesitating. 

Cyrus knew the question that was likely pressing at her mind, and he wasn’t ready by any means to address it. 

“It’s kind of late, so I should probably go. But I’ll call soon, okay?” 

“Okay,” she agreed, “goodnight, Cy. I love you.”

He felt his smile soften. “I love you too.”

With that, he ended the call, and silence surrounded him once more. He lingered there for a moment, taking in the conversation he’d just had, before flicking the light off and approaching the door again. He snuck back into the room as silently as he could, settling down under the blankets. His heart leapt when he felt Buffy shift, rolling over and shuffling towards him. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in, and he smiled ever so slightly as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. 

This time, he was asleep in under ten minutes. 

~ 

_September 14th, 2019 _

That Saturday brought with it the slightest hints of relief as the end of Summer drew near. White, fluffy clouds sailed by above Cyrus’ head, and gusts of cool breeze hit him even where he stood in the parking lot. He double-checked his car was locked, before heading over towards the elevator and pressing the button, watching it light up a bright orange. The route had become a familiar one over the past two months, and once he was inside he automatically found himself pressing the seventh floor. A few people passed by him in the hallway, offering him polite smiles, until he reached Marty’s apartment and knocked. 

Not even a few seconds had passed before the door was pulled open, and he was greeted by a smiling TJ. 

“Hey!” 

“Hey!” he returned as TJ stepped back, allowing him inside. 

Bright sunlight poured in through the windows, which gave a clear view of the sky and the bustling streets below. TJ moved over to the couch, where his phone had been abandoned. 

“So,” Cyrus began, as he collapsed down next to him, “guess what scene Hansen wants us to shoot in a few weeks?” 

TJ feigned a thoughtful look, leaning back against the couch with a slight smile, “hmm, let’s see...the near-death one?” 

“Nope.” 

“The jealousy scene?” 

“Nope.” 

“The...confessing scene?” 

“Close.” 

TJ thought about it a moment longer, before giving a shrug. “Okay, what is it?” 

“The kissing scene,” said Cyrus, as though it was obvious, and TJ let out a dramatic gasp. 

“The _kissing _scene?” 

“Yeah!” 

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Cyrus was looking at TJ expectantly, and TJ was looking right back at him in confusion. 

“What is it? Do you wanna practise or something?” he asked, lips tugging up into a smile, and Cyrus’ heart leapt. 

“What? No!” he spluttered, and TJ laughed. 

“You sure? I don’t mind,” he said, and Cyrus buried his face in his hands with a groan, mortified at the blush he could _definitely _feel beginning to cover his face.

“That’s _not _what I was implying,” he insisted, voice muffled slightly. 

“Then what _were _you implying?” 

He lifted his head from his hands. “I was just...I don’t know! I just thought...” he bit his lip, and TJ just raised his eyebrows, clearly amused.

“You just thought what?” 

“I thought, you know, you might find it awkward.”

“I mean, I’ve kissed lots of people for movies. Is it awkward for you?” 

Cyrus opened his mouth to respond, before closing it again. 

_Was it awkward? _

He’d kissed people for movies too, but something about kissing TJ just seemed..._different _for some reason. He couldn’t pinpoint it, which made it all the more frustrating. They’d become good friends after all, and he wasn’t used to being so close to someone on set. _Especially _not someone who was meant to be his romantic interest. 

“No...” he said, although his voice was high with uncertainty even to his own ears. 

TJ didn’t say anything for a moment, he just looked across at him as though trying to figure out some kind of puzzle. Cyrus shifted nervously. 

“You know what? Never mind-“ he began, making to stand up, but TJ gently grabbed his arm, pulling him back down. 

“Wait, why is it awkward?” he asked.

Cyrus met his gaze, and it was at that point he realised just how fast his heart was thudding away. A few seconds passed, seemingly in slow motion, before he spoke up again. 

“Because...” 

_Because a part of me is scared of what would happen if I actually liked it. _

“We’re friends,” he said instead, pushing that thought right back to the back of his mind where it belonged. 

TJ let go of his arm, seeming disappointed. “Yeah...we are. But this is Miles and Noah we’re talking about, right? Not TJ and Cyrus.” 

“Right,” Cyrus nodded. 

Silence fell for a moment. TJ gave a small smile. 

“I’m still down to practise if you want.”

“Shut up,” Cyrus laughed, playfully shoving him away. 

There was a confusing mixture of butterflies and nerves filling his stomach now, and Cyrus had no interest whatsoever in examining what that meant for him. 

“Mom called last night,” he said suddenly, eager to change the topic. 

TJ straightened at that, expression taking a more serious edge. 

“How’s she doing?” 

“Good, I think. She hasn’t had a drink in two weeks.” 

“That’s great!” 

“Yeah! It is,” he said, smiling.

He knew well that his high school-self would’ve ecstatic with that progress. He never got to see it however, no matter how many nights he spent hoping for it.

TJ hesitated, looking as though he wanted to say something more. He shuffled closer on the couch. 

“Cyrus...”

TJ took his hands, which had Cyrus looking down and blinking in surprise. 

“I think you should know...recovery is really hard. Like really, _really _hard. And I really don’t want you to be crushed if your mom relapses, because...it’s common. I relapsed a few times before actually recovering — even now I get random cravings. And during the first few weeks especially, the withdrawal symptoms are rough.” 

Cyrus felt his expression fall, and TJ must’ve noticed it too because he quickly attempted to back-track.

“I’m not saying she will! But after years of constant drinking...” 

“I get it,” Cyrus said with a nod, offering him a faint smile. 

He knew that deep down. Of course he did. His mom had attempted to recover on her own countless times, but now that she had a therapist, Cyrus couldn’t help but feel a small spark of hope. At the end of the day however, he knew that there was still a high chance of relapse, especially at the stage of recovery she was in. A part of him didn’t want to accept it. 

“If it happens, and you need someone to talk to, promise you’ll call me, okay?” 

Cyrus nodded. “Okay.”

“Good,” said TJ as he got up from the couch, shooting him a smile as he headed towards the kitchen. 

“Marty and Amber are out, which means we’ll probably have the apartment to ourselves until we have to leave. Wanna watch a movie? I have popcorn!” 

“Who could possibly say no to popcorn?” 

“Good point.”

By the time 3 pm rolled around, Cyrus had almost forgotten the reason he’d come over to Marty’s apartment in the first place. He watched as TJ got up from where he’d been curled up on the couch, running a hand through his hair. 

“So what’s the name of this YouTube channel that’s interviewing you again?” he asked.

“I kind of forgot, but they’re pretty big apparently.” 

“So big you can’t even remember their name?” Cyrus teased, earning him a playful glare from TJ as he searched around, seemingly for some shoes to wear. 

“Sorry, I’ve just been interviewed by so many big names on YouTube they’ve all blurred into one,” TJ explained, and Cyrus rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah, they’re so lucky to be interviewing _the_ TJ Kippen.” 

“They _ar_e,” he said indignantly, directing a swat at Cyrus as he passed, “also get your shoes on, they’re by the door.” 

He groaned as he got up, knowing well that he probably looked like a mess. “Why did I agree to come with you, again?” 

“Because you wanna support your best friend?”

“Well..._best _friend is pushing it,” said Cyrus, smiling when TJ let out a gasp. 

As dusk approached, the sun began to colour everything its rays could reach a warm orange. Briefly, Cyrus couldn’t help but notice how _nice _it made TJ look, but he pushed the thought away as quickly as it had appeared.

He crossed the room and sat down by his shoes, pulling them on. “Do you have a pair of sunglasses I can borrow that _aren’t _your heart-shaped ones? I need to hide my flaws.”

“What flaws?” TJ asked with a grin.

Cyrus scoffed. “Are you seeing me right now?” 

TJ paused by the door, watching as Cyrus got to his feet. “Yeah, I am actually. You look fine.” 

Cyrus stared back at him for a moment, the beginnings of a smile on his face. “Thanks.” 

The drive to the studio was a relatively short one. The air was pleasant outside, with a lingering warmth from midday that wasn’t unbearable as it had been over the last few weeks. The building they approached was almost as large as a warehouse, and it reminded Cyrus of their usual set. 

TJ held the door open as he walked in, and they were greeted almost immediately by a friendly woman who directed them towards the make-up room. 

“Is this a company or something? I didn’t realise you’d need make-up,” said Cyrus. 

TJ shrugged. “I guess so.” 

“You really don’t know anything about them, do you?” 

“Nothing at all,” TJ confirmed, and Cyrus couldn’t help but laugh. 

He took the seat beside TJ while he was having his make-up done, spinning around in it as they talked, and the make-up artist had a faint smile on his face as he went to work, glancing up at the pair occasionally. 

The room they were were led to after that was dark, save for the video backdrop that was illuminated by a few large lights. A small crew of people were still positioning the cameras, chattering amongst themselves. 

Cyrus honestly wasn’t sure what made him do it, but when TJ made to walk towards them, he gently grabbed his arm, stopping him.

He turned back around, giving Cyrus a confused look. “What’s up?” 

“You can um...” he hesitated, dropping his hand, “you can play things up if you want. I don’t mind.” 

“Oh. Are you sure?”

Cyrus couldn’t pinpoint exactly when his mind changed, but that moment was certain when he’d realised it. Something about the idea sparked a sense of excitement it hadn’t previously, and the more he’d thought about it over the past week, the more he’d warmed to it. He’d spent his entire life overthinking the consequences of every decision he made. Surely, just this once, he could take a chance?

_Right? _

He swallowed, before giving a quick nod. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s like you said — we know we’re friends.” 

It may have been a trick of the light, but Cyrus swore he saw TJ’s expression fall ever so slightly. 

“Yeah,” he said, “that’s true.” 

As TJ walked away, Cyrus couldn’t help but feel he’d done something wrong. He watched from the sidelines as the crew positioned TJ and the interviewer, offering TJ a small smile when he looked his way.

Cyrus had always admired TJ’s natural charm when it came to socialising, especially with new people. He seemed to have no troubles whatsoever entertaining the interviewer and her questions. 

“So, as the people watching this may or may not already know, you’re shooting a movie right now called ‘Down to Ashes!’” 

“I am! I’m not sure how much I can say about it without being sniped by my manager though,” he winced, and Cyrus watched as a woman standing by the camera laughed.

“Aw, so no hints then?” she asked, and TJ shook his head, smiling slightly.

“For the time being, no I’m afraid. As we get closer to wrapping up we’ll see.” 

“We’ll all be waiting! If we can’t know anything about the movie quite yet, we have to know — how are you finding work with your castmates so far?” 

Cyrus began to smile at that, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth when TJ’s eyes darted towards him.

“They’re great! I’ve had a lot of fun working with them, and we’re all super excited for everyone to see the final product.”

“Are there any castmates in particular that you’ve bonded with? You’ve been spotted a few times hanging out with Cyrus Goodman, according to several sources.”

TJ laughed. “Cyrus is great. I couldn’t ask for a better co-star, really.” 

“Is there anything more happening between you two than you’re letting on?”

TJ was grinning now, and Cyrus knew there was probably a similar expression on his own face. “He’s really great,” TJ repeated, and now it was the interviewer’s turn to laugh, “I’m glad we’ve been able to hang out.”

The questions were followed up by a few rounds of ‘never have I ever,’ and by the time TJ had wrapped and signed out, approaching him in the main lobby, he looked positively exhausted.

“Okay, that’s enough human interaction for one day,” he declared, offering Cyrus a hand.

Cyrus smiled as he took it, allowing TJ to help him to his feet. “Are you saying I’m not a human?” 

“You’re different,” he explained, and something about those words had Cyrus melting slightly. 

TJ practically leapt at the offer when Cyrus suggested he stay over at his hotel for the night. The sun was officially beginning to set, bathing everything around them in orange as it lowered down towards the horizon. Palm trees blurred by as they drove, and soon enough, they were arriving at the smoothie store not far from the hotel (as per his request.) 

As they walked by the crowds of people, wind breezing by and ruffling their hair, Cyrus grabbed TJ’s arm without thinking and wrapped it around his shoulders, holding it there. If anyone asked, he would tell them it was obviously in the name of _‘playing things up.’ _Deep down however, he just liked the comfort it gave him. 

TJ’s eyes widened slightly, but a bright smile appeared on his face seconds later that had Cyrus’ heart fluttering. 

They were just two friends playing things up. It was no big deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just two friends playing it up ;) 
> 
> Kudos/comments appreciated as always if you liked the chapter!! <33


	12. Just One Sip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJ and Cyrus spend a day together. TJ agrees to a catch up with a few old friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I know it's Friday (or - it is in Australia at least) but here's a chapter because I got hit by a bunch of motivation yay!!
> 
> TW for this chapter: Mentions and depictions of alcoholism/related thoughts + cursing

_September 15th, 2019_

TJ had no idea how to do relationships. 

Of course, this was something he’d known for quite some time now, but over the past few days this had _really _hit him. He knew how to kiss someone, and he knew exactly what Hollywood deemed ‘cute’ when it came to romance, but none of those things could’ve prepared him in the slightest for experiencing any of that in real life. With how dramatic movies always were, TJ had gradually come to believe that love was always loud, and obvious, that it was all arguments and getting back to together, all rain kisses and shouted confessions of feelings when two people had finally had enough. 

That wasn’t how he felt. 

TJ’s feelings weren’t loud, and they never had been when it came to Cyrus. They didn’t create fireworks, or _sparks _even, and they certainly weren’t all-consuming. They were just _there_, underlying every interaction, filling his stomach with butterflies whenever Cyrus did something particularly endearing. It was a soft feeling, one that had managed to creep up on him without him even realising it. 

He felt _comfortable _with Cyrus, to the point where sometimes he’d let his guard fall down a lot more than he normally would, and it was moments like the one he was in currently that made him realise it. 

Cyrus’ hotel room was relatively small, with an island counter that separated the main part of it from the kitchenette he was in. He’d honestly intended to keep his eyes on the pancakes he was flipping, but he couldn’t keep himself from sneaking glances over at Cyrus, who was still curled up under the covers fast asleep. Dust-speckling light was streaming in through the parted curtains, and it tinged his dark hair ever so slightly with gold. 

TJ snapped himself out of his staring, feeling guilty as he concentrated back on the pancake he was supposed to be flipping. He managed to keep his eyes firmly on the pan, only allowing himself to look back over towards the bed once he’d placed the final pancake down on one of the plates and turned off the stove. 

He almost felt bad at the prospect of waking Cyrus up but it was nearing 10 am now, and he knew that Cyrus would never forgive him if he ended up missing out on blueberry pancakes. 

TJ crossed the room as quietly as he could and paused by the bed, a small smile tugging at his lips as he took in the sight. Cyrus still had the blanket bunched up in his grip, which had loosened now, and his hair was sticking up in all directions. His sleeping form rose with each breath in and fell with each breath out. 

A realisation hit TJ then that had his eyes widening in alarm. 

_Did Cyrus have his face buried in the pillow like that before? _

He very nearly jumped when he heard it. 

“Is there a reason you’re staring at me?” 

His voice was muffled by the pillow and heavy with sleep, but TJ was able to make out the words regardless.

“I wasn’t staring!” he defended, maybe a little too loudly, because it had Cyrus lifting his head with a smug smile.

“You _were_,” he said. “And I mean — I’m really not sure what there is to see, but I’m flattered anyway.” 

TJ watched for a moment as Cyrus sat up, bringing the blanket up around his shoulders, and a slight frown appeared on his face. 

“There’s a lot to see. You look nice.“

He really hadn’t meant for his voice to sound so soft, like he was _confessing _something, but there was no going back once he’d said it so all he could do was wait with bated breath. 

Cyrus was looking up at him, face lit up by the sun, blinking as though he didn’t quite understand. Then, a slow smile came to his lips. 

“That sounded strangely like a compliment, Theo.” 

A pause. Then—

“It was.”

Cyrus lowered his gaze down to the ground for a moment, as though considering something, before looking up again. Previously, TJ hadn’t given much thought to the way Cyrus’ eyes looked whenever light hit them, but suddenly it seemed that’s all his brain could process. They shone, reflecting the warmth of the sun, and TJ was so caught up in admiring the soft brown they’d become that he missed what Cyrus said next entirely. 

He could feel warmth beginning to spread across his face as Cyrus stood up from the bed, dropping the blanket down behind him with a soft thud. 

“Did you hear what I said?”

“No,” he admitted. 

Cyrus gave him a look of fond exasperation. “Never mind then. The real question is — did you make pancakes?” 

_Right. Pancakes. Those were a thing. _

“Yeah,” he said as he moved towards the counter, thankful that he’d covered them with another plate to preserve their warmth, “but don’t think you’re getting off that easy, Goodman. What did you say?” 

“Nothing!” he insisted, laughing slightly. 

TJ folded his arms stubbornly over his chest, watching with raised eyebrows as Cyrus walked over. 

“Maybe you should learn to listen,” he teased, giving TJ a tap on the nose. 

He scrunched his face up in response. “Listening is for losers.” 

“_Losers? _I didn’t realise we were back in high school,” said Cyrus. 

TJ narrowed his eyes for a moment, levelling him with a glare, before relenting and turning back to the pancakes. After all, if he stared too long he was at risk of falling into a middle-schooler-esque daze and losing all sense of hearing apparently. He could add that to the list of things Cyrus had managed to bring out in him for the first time. 

The day went by in a haze of sunshine and Netflix documentaries. TJ’s attention was stolen by Cyrus and all of his little reactions despite how interesting he found the documentaries themselves. Small things that previously wouldn’t have warranted a second thought were slowly becoming things that were constantly at the forefront of his mind - all it took was their shoulders coming into contact, or their hands brushing whenever they reached for Cyrus’ laptop at the same time. Even the way Cyrus laughed occasionally at his commentary was distracting, with how it would set his eyes alight. TJ didn’t necessarily _want _to be focusing on these things, despite how pleasant they were, but it seemed that his mind had other plans for him that day. 

When TJ suggested they watch the sunset from Marty’s apartment, Cyrus’ nod of agreement was almost instantaneous.

It was a familiar journey from the parking lot right up to the roof once they’d arrived. This time, there were no visible signs of hesitation on Cyrus’ face as he watched TJ ascend the stairs and fumble with the lock for a moment. By the time they stepped out, various hues of orange and red were colouring the horizon. A deep blue had settled above it, dotted very faintly by stars, and the breeze that passed by them carried a pleasant warmth.

A part of TJ couldn’t help but feel nervous as he turned towards Cyrus, who was tugging one of his over-sized jackets over his shoulders as he looked out at the sky. The last remnants of light were reflected in his eyes, but otherwise, the surrounding darkness that had begun to creep in obscured his face from view slightly. 

Briefly, TJ wondered if it was normal to be so preoccupied with the way his friend’s eyes looked in various settings. He could practically _hear_ Marty's voice in his head from about two months ago, teasing him about the fact that he was being forced to look into _Cyrus Goodman’s _eyes so much. 

It was funny how things like that could change.

“Earth to TJ?” 

_Dammit. Snap out of it, TJ. _

“TJ to Earth,” he said, gaze landing on where Cyrus was now sat down on the concrete, “what’s up?” 

TJ moved forward, taking a seat beside him, conscious of leaving some space between them. Cyrus didn’t seem to notice. 

“Are you okay? You seem kind of...distracted.”

“From you?” he questioned, a smile tugging at his lips, “never.” 

Cyrus rolled his eyes at that, but the slight red that coloured his cheeks seemed to suggest the response had served its purpose. He dropped it, and TJ felt a small sense of relief.

They both resumed watching the sunset, although TJ couldn’t help but sneak the occasional glance over. He was only human, after all. 

“Do you remember much from senior year?” Cyrus blurted, as though saying those words had been an abrupt decision. 

TJ felt himself wince, and Cyrus must’ve noticed because he quickly spoke up again. 

“Sorry! I don’t wanna bring up any bad memories-“ 

“Don’t worry,” TJ assured him, smile weak, “I remember some parts of it. Why?” 

Cyrus hesitated at that, visible conflict written over his face. Then, he shook his head.

“No reason. Just curious.” 

Reds were succumbing to blues now, and although very faint, a few more stars had appeared in the sky. This time, it was TJ’s turn to speak up. 

“I knew it was you. At the party, I mean.” 

Cyrus’ gaze snapped towards him. He was blinking rapidly, clearly not fully believing those words had left TJ’s mouth. 

“You burst in on me crying. I remember. I just...pretended it never happened afterwards, so we’d both forget about it.” 

“Well...it worked?” Cyrus offered, and TJ couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him. 

“That’s good, I guess.” 

An uncertain look crossed Cyrus’ features, softened due to the dark, and TJ knew almost immediately the question that was pressing at his mind. He huffed a sigh as he returned his gaze out to the view of LA before them, an organised mess of roads and cars, lit up now that dusk had fallen. 

“I was forcing myself to date girls back then. What you saw was me realising for the hundredth time that I felt nothing kissing them.”

TJ could feel Cyrus’ eyes on him now, but somehow, he managed to keep his gaze trained forward. It was only when he felt a hand close over his own that he looked over, out of shock more than anything. 

“...I dated a girl too, for what it’s worth. I stayed with her even though I knew deep down I didn’t like her. I just thought...if I could feel _something_...”

TJ nodded. “I get that.”

He swallowed then, glancing down once more at their hands. “Sucks that we didn’t realise sooner. Maybe we could’ve bonded over being gay and constantly surrounded by homophobic trash bags.” 

Cyrus’ lips curved into a gentle smile, and soon enough, TJ found himself smiling too. 

Briefly, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander to his dad, and how disgusted he would be if he could see the way TJ was looking at Cyrus. He hated more than anything that he’d carried these thoughts over from his teenage years, that they’d initially made him flinch away from any kind of contact with Marty, or _anyone _for that matter.

Then, he thought _fuck it_, because Cyrus looked beautiful and his dad was all the way back in Shadyside and _really — _why should TJ give a damn about what he thinks, anyway? 

“Theo? Are you okay?” 

He looked over again at that. “Yeah. I’m good. Wanna head down to Marty’s place soon?” 

“Yeah, we probably should. Didn’t Amber mention something about buying monopoly?” 

TJ let out a groan. “That game turns good people into monsters.” 

Cyrus got to his feet at that, smile bright as he offered a hand to TJ. There was warm breeze ruffling his hair, and a mischievous glint had appeared in his eyes. If he wasn’t so cute, TJ may have felt slightly unsettled by the expression painted across his face. 

“Doesn’t make it any less fun.” 

“This is gonna be interesting,” TJ mumbled as he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. 

And as the elevator began to rumble down towards Marty’s floor, an ache filled TJ’s chest. Looking across at Cyrus, he knew the only place he could ever be with him in the way he wanted was on a movie set, with cameras and microphones constantly in their faces. 

He supposed it would have to do. 

~

_September 20th, 2019 _

It was a cool night the following Friday, with grey clouds filling the night sky outside, blocking any stars that may have been visible from view. 

A few candles burned around the apartment, keeping the surrounding darkness at bay. Amber was sat up against the foot of the couch, right by the game of monopoly they’d abandoned, while Marty was above her, trying out a braid he’d seen in a video on her hair. TJ lay sprawled across the floor like the composed adult he was. 

Amber looked towards him with a scoff, and Marty scolded her gently for moving. 

“You’re gonna mess up your hair.”

TJ let out a groan at that, although it was muffled slightly by the carpet beneath him. 

“Why did you guys let me agree to plans with people I haven’t seen in like two years?” he asked, lifting his head up to direct a glare at both of them.

“Hey — this was entirely _your _decision, don’t drag usinto it!” Marty argued, shifting slightly on the couch so he could continue his braid. 

TJ reluctantly rolled over into his back, using his remaining energy to manoeuvre himself into an upright position. His dress shirt was most definitely wrinkled now, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“They’re LA people, TJ. Just talk about your acting or something. Or your recipe for a homemade açai bowl. Or both!” said Amber.

TJ let out a snort. “That’s a bit stereotypical.”

“I mean — it’s solid advice,” Marty told him with a shrug.

A sigh escaped him as he got slowly to his feet, wandering over towards the kitchen counter to grab his phone. He downed the water that remained in the glass he’d filled earlier, setting it down again on the marble with a small clink. When his gaze returned to Amber and Marty, it seemed worry had taken over both of their expressions. TJ observed them for a moment, before moving towards the front door to grab a coat, draping it over his arm. 

He huffed. “What is it?” 

Marty’s expression, illuminated only barely by candlelight, shifted towards something kinder.

“Amber and I were just thinking — will there be alcohol at the place you’re going to?” 

TJ shook his head in response, trying hard not to let the frustration he could feel bubbling up inside of him show. He knew they meant well, but their constant warnings were beginning to make him feel like a kid who couldn’t help himself. He still had issues of course, but he certainly wasn’t the scared teenager he’d once been. 

“Did you check?” asked Marty. 

“No, but...it’s a burger place. I doubt they’d have alcohol.” 

Amber exchanged a look with Marty then, in a way that reminded TJ uncomfortably of two overprotective parents. He took in a deep breath, before letting it out in one audible woosh. 

“Look, I’ll be fine, okay? Don’t worry.”

“Teej, the therapist said—“

“That I should avoid situations where there could be alcohol if my urges reappear, yeah, I _know, _it’s all I’ve been fucking _doing _for the past four _years_,” he said, with a lot more bitterness than intended.

Marty looked taken aback by those words, and TJ felt as though one big ice bucket of guilt had suddenly been dumped over his head. 

“Sorry,” he said quickly, looking down at the ground for a moment to reign himself back in, “that was mean.” 

Amber’s face softened. “We know it’s annoying, TJ. We just don’t want to see you like..._that_...again.” 

“I know,” he said softly, “I get it. I’m...I’m gonna go now, or I’ll be late.” 

Marty looked as though he wanted to say something more, but he pressed his lips together instead and gave a stiff nod. TJ let out a breath, turning back towards the door and pushing it open. He could feel the usual anxiousness that followed even _minor _disputes with Marty or Amber beginning to kick in, filling him a jittery restlessness he couldn’t shake off even as he stepped out into the cool evening air. He began to walk towards his destination, wind whipping his hair clothes about. 

The chatter around him felt overwhelming where it usually felt lively, and the various lights that flashed around him blurred slightly as he passed various people celebrating the arrival of Friday evening. The music that pulsed at a nearby club was jarring, and he felt himself wincing as he walked by. 

His phone vibrated with a message, and pale light illuminated his face as his eyes scanned over it. 

** _dad: _** _what the hell is this?? _

His blood ran cold. Attached to the message was an article he _knew _that was about the supposed relationship between him and Cyrus. TJ had expected his dad to find out at some point, of course he had, but _god_. Why now? _Why now? _

He quickly deleted the notification, stomach twisting as he continued to make his way towards the burger joint. 

TJ plastered on the most convincing smile he could when he saw the people he was meeting outside, talking amongst themselves. One of them, Casey, separated from the group when his eyes found him amongst the crowd, a smile lighting up his face. 

“TJ, my man!” 

He brought him in for a bro-hug, which TJ could confidently say he’d mastered the art of during high school. 

“Hey,” he greeted, in a tone that was so unconvincing he was almost scared they’d realise it. None of them did. 

“Eliza was actually just saying that we could try out a restaurant not too far from here instead with...what did you say they do again?” 

“They have really good cocktails,” she explained, and there was a general murmur of agreement amongst the four of them. TJ didn’t think he’d ever felt his heart sink so far. 

“Uh, yeah, I don’t mind,” he said stiffly, feeling oddly as though his throat was closing up and preventing any air from getting in. 

“Great!” said Casey, grinning cluelessly as he draped an arm around TJ’s shoulders. 

Not even the cool air gusting by brought TJ any relief as they walked. What was supposed to be five minutes felt more like fifteen, and all the things he usually loved about LA’s nightlife was rapidly becoming his worst nightmare.

_This was too much. Way, way too much, Why was he going along with it? _

“So TJ, what kinds of cocktails do you normally like?” 

He let out a breath, mind reeling with possible options. Apparently though, his mouth didn’t feel like cooperating, because he didn’t respond with any of them. 

“I don’t really drink cocktails, actually,” he said, letting out a breathless laugh. 

Casey nodded. “Yeah, they’re pretty high in sugar sometimes. You have to try some tonight though! They’re great when you get the right one.” 

An almost unbearable sense of nausea was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach now. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, offering a half-hearted smile. 

_While was he still walking? Why couldn’t he come up with any excuses? _

“How’s LA treating you so far, by the way?” 

“Good!” he said, “but compared to Shadyside the traffic is terrible.”

“You’re telling me,” Casey groaned, and TJ forced a laugh. 

From there, it was all somewhat of a blur. Before he knew it, they were being guided towards a booth, and everyone was ordering their drinks. It was dim inside, with only hanging lamps to illuminate the space, but somehow TJ had never felt so exposed when the waiter turned towards him expectantly. 

He couldn’t speak. Every single word he wanted to get out was caught in his throat.

Casey clearly must’ve interpreted his silence as a lack of knowledge about the cocktail options, because he jumped in with a quick “he’ll have what I’m having!” and TJ’s heartrate was positively _soaring_. 

“So, how’s the new movie coming along, TJ?” asked Raph, leaning casually back against the seat behind him.

Everyone’s gaze turned towards him, and it burned in a way that TJ wasn’t used to. 

He swallowed thickly. “Um...it’s good so far! We’re still in the early stages though, so I can’t really say much. Contracts and all that.” 

Eliza nodded from across the table, eyebrows raised in amusement. “And what’s this I hear about you and Cyrus Goodman?” 

“Oh, don’t start asking about people’s romantic life when you were literally kissing Tom at that club three nights ago! We _still_ haven't even gotten a clear answer about you two,” said Casey, and laughter broke out at the table. 

The conversation was steered safely away from TJ following that, and he couldn’t be more grateful for it. 

He held his breath as he watched the waiter approach their table, seemingly in slow motion. Another wave of nausea crashed over him.

“Thank god!” Raph called, and there was a general noise of agreement as their glasses were set down. TJ sat rigidly, arms down by his sides as a large, pink cocktail was set down right in front of him. 

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck. _

“Let me know if it’s good or not, Teej!” Casey told him, a grin spread across his face, and TJ felt the air seep from his lungs. 

The colour reminded him of the mixes they used to concoct at those parties he’d thrown back in high school, and with that came various memories of waking up on a couch after blacking out completely the night before, with it came memories of drunkenly kissing girls, hoping for a spark of some kind. With it came... 

He stopped himself there, still staring down the cocktail with a slight grimace twisting his features. 

_Just one sip. One sip, then you’ll be able to tell him you don’t like it. _

He glanced about wearily and picked up the glass, toying with it for a moment as he pretended to pay attention to the conversation taking place. 

As he did so, thoughts of Cyrus began to fill his mind. The pale look of worry on his face when he’d asked him to call if TJ ever felt like relapsing. The concern that had laced his tone. The tears that had spilled down his face upon discovering his mom had been drunk that warm summer’s night.

_God. What the fuck was he doing? _

He set down the glass with more force than intended, causing the liquid to slosh around. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said hurriedly as he got up from his chair, feeling sick to his stomach. TJ wove his way through the restaurant, bursting through the bathroom door. The sink was cool beneath his death grip, and for a moment he remained there, just staring down his reflection. 

Then, he was turning away and squeezing his eyes shut, pressing the heels of his hands against them until flashes of shadowed light began to appear beneath his eyelids. When he finally opened them again, his vision was swimming with fuzzy pools of colour and light. 

_If he went back in there now he was going to relapse_. 

Despite the years that had gone by, despite the hours in therapy, he could _not _by any means handle alcohol anywhere near him, and at that realisation he began to feel a sense of shame creep in. It was normal, _expected _even, for most people his age to drink, at least socially. They knew their limits, and they could be exposed to any amount of alcohol without losing it completely. 

_When could he have that too? _

TJ swallowed down the lump in his throat and entered a stall, slamming the door shut behind him with an echoing bang. 

He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping on the familiar contact and holding it up to his ear, heart caught in his throat. 

“Hey!”

He relaxed ever so slightly. 

“Cyrus. I’m really sorry but you said to call and...” he paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath. “I just got really close to relapsing. And…if I don’t get out of here soon...it might happen again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brb writing myself into the story so I can hug TJ :,-)
> 
> Anyways, kudos/comments are appreciated as always if you liked the chapter!! <3


	13. Sirens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus recieves a call from TJ while he's at Andi's art studio. TJ and Cyrus have a talk on set the following Monday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It took some deleting + rewriting, but I'm actually pretty proud of this chapter! Yay!
> 
> Trigger warning for this chapter: Talk of alcoholism

_September 20th, 2019 _

A comforting stillness had settled over Andi’s art studio by the time 9 pm rolled around. The sounds of traffic outside were muted by the bright walls that surrounded them, every inch covered by an array of paintings, all displaying various art styles. Andi was stood amongst it all, obscured slightly by the darkness that had set in. She flitted between various tables, ordering her supplies while Cyrus spun around in one the discarded chairs, various stains of dry paint splattered across it. 

Two empty bottles of iced coffee joined the precarious mess of jumbled supplies Andi carried in her arms. Cyrus came to an abrupt halt upon seeing this, vision still spinning slightly as he stumbled to his feet. 

“That’s it. I’m helping you.” 

Andi threw him a fond look, although it was quickly masked by one of mock annoyance. 

“_Fine_,” she relented, dumping the pile onto one of the tables. 

Cyrus had spent enough late nights at the studio to know exactly what belonged where. He set to work almost immediately, locating various shelves and crevices within the darkened room, illuminated by a panel of bright lights above their heads.

Soft music from Andi’s phone filled the stillness, and a small smile graced Cyrus’ lips as he went about tidying. There was something about these nights that filled his chest with a warm feeling of contentment. 

“Amber has an Instagram, you know?” he said as he passed her, eyebrows raised slightly.

Andi let out a scoff at that, using the large paintbrush in her hand to give him a playful swat. “What makes you think I’d need to know that information?” 

Cyrus shrugged, innocent expression betrayed by the smile he could feel threatening to appear on his lips. 

“No reason. Just thought you should know.”

Andi continued without prompting, and Cyrus laughed quietly to himself as he approached the sink that sat right by the window and turned one of the taps, washing the paintbrushes that had been piled up beside it. 

“I mean — is Amber cute? Yeah! Would I love to go out on a date with her? Yeah! Would I totally be her girlfriend if she asked? Hell yeah! That doesn’t mean I wanna know her Instagram, though.”

Cyrus turned to her in disbelief, watching for a moment as she casually went about packing up one of the remaining easel stands. 

“...It’s Amber Kippen 22, all lowercase,” he informed her, and a smile spread across Andi’s face. 

“Thanks. I won’t look that up later and like every one of her photos.” 

Cyrus smirked slightly. “Okay. Good to know.” 

He continued to wash the paintbrushes, watching somewhat mindlessly as various shades of colour tinged the swirling water at the bottom of the sink, rushing down towards the drain. It was only when Andi cleared her throat that he realised she was standing beside him now, leaning up against the table with a mischievous glint in her eyes that immediately set his nerves alight. 

“Uh...can I help you?” 

She gave him a look as if to say _‘seriously?’_ and jumped up onto the table, legs dangling ever so slightly. 

“While we’re talking about dating, what’s going on with TJ? I’ve been waiting for you to say something, but I feel like you’re holding out on me, Cy,” she said, eyes narrowing slightly.

Cyrus felt his face grow hot at those words, so he quickly directed his gaze back down to the sink. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted, because although a part of him knew his friends would catch onto their public facade eventually, he wasn’t ready by means to acknowledge the feelings that had been stirring up inside of him as of recent. 

“Cyrus,” she whined, dragging out the word, and Cyrus couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. Her method of pleading hadn’t changed in the slightest since high school.

“Andi,” he returned, mimicking her tone.

She settled on folding her arms and staring at him as he grabbed another handful of paintbrushes, coloured by an array of pinks and reds. 

Cyrus eventually let out a sigh. “Okay. TJ and I...we have a thing going on where we’re pretending to be a couple to get our movie attention. That’s it,” he said, and Andi’s mouth practically fell open in shock. 

“You guys are pretending to date?” she asked, voice rising a few octaves with excitement, and Cyrus threw her a fond look.

“Yeah. _Pretending_,” he emphasised.

“So you’re saying you don’t like him whatsoever?” she asked, in clear disbelief.

Cyrus pressed his lips together, stomach turning with the realisation that he couldn’t truthfully deny having feelings for TJ. He decided on not saying anything. 

Andi must’ve seen right through him, however, because she looked _ecstatic_.

“You _do_ like him!” 

He shook his head at that, feeling himself grow defensive. “I absolutely don’t! He’s just nice, that’s all.” 

Andi gave him a knowing look, and a sheepish smile began to grow on Cyrus’ face as he placed the paintbrushes aside to dry and shut off the tap, allowing them both to hear the music once more.

“He’s funny too, I guess...and handsome...and good at making pancakes...”

Her expression brightened at that, and she jumped down from the table to wrap him up in a tight hug. Cyrus melted into it, slightly confused but never one to turn down a hug. 

“This is so exciting!” Andi said as they separated, taking his hands instead, “you haven’t liked anyone since...wait, _have_ you ever liked anyone?”

Cyrus mind immediately went to that boy he’d kissed in high school, and the butterflies that had filled him in the few blissful moments he was deceived into thinking someone _actually_ could’ve liked him. That same bitter taste appeared in his mouth.

“No,” he settled on saying, giving her a half-smile. 

“Well...I think TJ would be good for you! And not just because he’s into dirt-biking,” she said, which had the smile reappearing on Cyrus’ face. 

The sharp sound of his ringtone had them both looking across the room in alarm, and Cyrus lingered there for a moment before dropping her hands and moving over to pick up his phone. He could feel Andi watching him intently as he scanned the caller ID.

“It’s TJ,” he said, smile widening, and Andi gave him a grin as she began to put away some of the remaining supplies. 

“Well, don’t leave him hanging!” 

Cyrus shook his head, tapping accept and bringing the phone up to his ear. 

“Hey!” 

He heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end. 

“Cyrus. I’m really sorry but you said to call and...” TJ paused again, and Cyrus could feel his heart sinking rapidly with the realisation of what this could be about, “I just got really close to relapsing. And…if I don’t get out of here soon...it might happen again.”

He was stunned into silence for a moment, memories flashing before of his eyes of his mom, and the first call he’d received from her. All of a sudden, it was as though his entire body had been plunged right into ice water.

“Don’t...don’t be sorry,” he stammered, trying desperately to conceal his worry, “where are you?”

Andi froze in her tracks, turning back to him with a mixture of concern and confusion. 

“La Vista. It’s a restaurant.”

Cyrus was almost inclined to ask who he’d gone there with, who could’ve _possibly_ allowed him to almost relapse, but he pushed that question to the back of his mind. 

“Can you send me your location?“

“Yeah,” TJ breathed.

“Okay, we’ll be there soon. I’m gonna hang up now, but I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

“Are you sure?” asked TJ, voice ridden with guilt, “you don’t have-“

“I’m 100% sure,” he interrupted, turning to grab his coat from the chair he’d been spinning on. 

TJ let out a shaky breath, and Cyrus felt his heart break a little. 

“Okay. Thanks, Cy.” 

Then, there was silence, and despite the music that was still playing it seemed deafening. Andi approached cautiously, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“What happened?” she asked, face illuminated by the pale light emanating from his phone. 

“I can’t say, I’m really sorry...but TJ needs to be picked up.” 

Andi lingered for a moment, curiosity written all over her face, before giving a quick nod. She grabbed her own denim jacket, rummaging around in its pockets before producing a set of keys. 

“Let’s go then.” 

A small, grateful smile appeared on Cyrus’ lips as she crossed the room towards the door, all business now. He followed, and soon enough they were stepping out into the darkness of night, hit immediately by a gust of cool wind. 

Andi paused by her car, looking over at him as she tugging her jacket over her shoulders. “Will he be okay until we get there?” 

“I really hope so. I’m gonna call him back when we start driving to make sure,” Cyrus answered, opening the car door. 

He shut it again with more force than intended, producing a loud, metallic-sounding bang. There were cars racing by along the street beside them, reduced to a blur of flashing lights. Once they’d set their GPS they were on their way, joining the traffic. Cyrus turned the radio right down and called TJ, nerves bubbling up to the surface once more. 

With each ring that passed, he could feel his throat becoming tighter. Eventually, the call rang out. 

“Shit,” he muttered, hands fumbling slightly as he tried again. 

_Nothing. Just the cheery sound of TJ’s voice, telling him to leave a message. _

Andi piped up beside him, eyes still trained on the road ahead. “Is he not picking up?” 

Cyrus’ breaths were starting to become shallow now. 

“No,” he managed. 

He tried once more, hands shaking violently as he pressed the phone to his ear, grip on it so tight his fingers were turning white with the pressure of it. 

“Hey, you’ve reached TJ! I can’t get to your call right now, but feel free to leave a—“

“God _dammit_, Theo!” he exclaimed, voice cracking slightly as he hung up and forcibly placed his phone back down, burying his face in his hands. 

Andi reached out blindly, finding his hand with some fumbling and pulling it away from his face. “Cyrus, listen to me, he’s gonna be fine. We’ll be there soon, just...just hold on for me, okay?"

Cyrus lifted his head with a meek nod, intertwining their fingers. 

He knew what happened when his mom relapsed. He knew about the burning guilt that came with it, the cravings that came with it, the _chaos_ that came with it. Images flashed through his mind, his mum leaned over a toilet bowl as he held back her hair, his mum calling him late into the night, crying that she’d made a mistake, that she knew it was a school night but she needed help. He knew how hard it could be to come back from a relapse — it’s all his mom’s life had become after all, but this was _TJ_. This was the person he’d come to realise had the biggest heart imaginable, the worst jokes imaginable, the brightest smile imaginable.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck. _

TJ could be relapsing right now. TJ could be relapsing right now and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it except sit there helplessly and wait. 

His mind wandered back to the restaurant, and another small spark of anger filled him at the prospect of someone having the _nerve_ to take TJ there. _Surely_ he wouldn’t go out with people who didn’t know about his drinking problem.

_Right? _

He almost could’ve cried with how relieved he was when his phone began to vibrate with an incoming call, and he dropped Andi’s hand immediately to accept it. 

“Theo! Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine! Sorry...I had to set my phone to silent while I was telling the people I was with that I had to go.”

Cyrus was seriously torn between yelling at him and reaching through the phone somehow to hug the life out of him. 

“Thank god, I thought for a second that — shit, are you okay?”

He’d barely registered it at first, but it was clear as day despite the muffled quality that TJ was crying, breaths ragged and sharp. 

“Yeah,” he repeated, but a shuddering intake of breath followed that told Cyrus otherwise. 

“Theo...” he began, voice soft, but TJ cut him off.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—“ another sharp breath, “—I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. Marty and Amber were right. They always are...I...I should’ve listened...”

Andi was pulling into a parking lot now, right by a flashy looking restaurant filled to the brim with people. Cyrus wanted more than anything to respond, but he knew well that Andi would hear whatever he said. 

“Don’t be sorry, okay? This isn’t your fault at all. We’re here now, towards the back of the parking lot. Can you come meet us?”

“Okay,” he said softly, ”I’ll head over.”

He ended the call soon after. 

Cyrus ran a hand through his hair, offering Andi a half-smile before stepping out of the car, being met immediately by harsh wind. He tugged at his jacket, arms folded tightly over his chest as he waited. After what seemed like minutes, TJ was finally approaching him, cheeks visibly red and tear-stained.

He opened his arms and TJ walked right into them, burying his face in the crook of Cyrus’ neck. They slotted together like two pieces of a puzzle. 

He didn’t know exactly how long they remained like that, but when TJ pulled away again his breathing had evened out.

“Your face is freezing,” said Cyrus, and a small, amused smile appeared on TJ’s face. 

“I’ve been standing outside.” 

“Well, let’s let you inside then.” 

TJ nodded, but before he could move, Cyrus was gently grabbing his arm. “Theo?”

His gaze returned to him. “Yeah?” 

“I just...hope you don’t feel guilty. You had trouble tonight, sure, but I’m really glad you called. I know it’s not easy, so...thanks for trusting me.” 

TJ’s face softened. “Thanks for being there. I...I might’ve gone back in otherwise.” 

Cyrus almost shuddered at the thought. 

“Marty and Amber are gonna be so mad...” TJ trailed off, a wince twisting across his face. 

“They won’t be,” Cyrus assured him, reaching out again to take his hand. “They’ll be relieved more than anything. They just want you safe.” 

TJ glanced briefly down at their hands, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks. I hope so.” 

Andi didn’t ask any questions once they’d both climbed into the car. She just smiled pleasantly and greeted TJ as she normally would. 

Cyrus made a mental note to buy her an extra box of pop tarts next time he went shopping.

~ 

_September 23rd, 2019_

Cyrus was quick to come to the conclusion that on a list of the most terrible things to experience, TJ being sad was definitely up there. The way his shoulders sagged slightly, the way his eyes darted constantly down to the ground, the way his attempts to smile all seemed half-hearted.Yeah. At that moment, he couldn’t think of much worse. 

It was a clear day. Sunlit clouds drifted peacefully across the sky, carried by a breeze that left a haze of warmth in its wake. Extras and crew members raced between trailers, gathered in circles, and generally filled basecamp as Cyrus made his way over to the make-up truck, glancing uncertainly over at TJ. He’d seemed distant from the moment he’d approached him on set, and a deep pit of worry was beginning to form in Cyrus’ stomach. With a sigh, he shrugged off his jacket and ascended the stairs, footsteps clanging against the metal. Mia awaited him, red lips curled up into a smile, and Cyrus tried his hardest to return it as he placed his smoothie down.

“How’s my favourite person?” he asked, to which Mia gave an airy laugh.

“Flattered as always, Cyrus. I’m good! How are you? You look a little stressed,” she said as she began to examine his face. 

His gaze flicked to TJ, who was sat silently in his chair staring ahead, before letting out a sigh. “I’m okay...” 

Mia spun him around in his chair, giving his head an affectionate pat. “I know I’m only your make up artist, but I’m here for you, okay?” 

“Aww, thanks Mia,” he said, smiling. 

They continued to chat as she began applying makeup, turning his chair on occasion in order to do so. It was somewhat stuffy within the confines of the trailer, made worse by the stress Cyrus felt with each glance he directed at TJ. 

Eventually, when TJ pulled out a small set of mini sides, Cyrus piped up with a small laugh. 

“_TJ Kippen_ reading over his lines? Have we fallen into another parallel universe?”

He didn’t jump at the opportunity to exchange a few jokes in the slightest, offering nothing but a smile in response. Cyrus ended up collapsing back into his chair with a defeated sigh. Mia looked between the pair curiously as she ran a comb through his hair.

“Hey, did I tell you about what my new puppy did yesterday?” she asked, and Cyrus couldn’t help but smile.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Well, because she’s still so small, she was using my cat as a pillow to fall asleep on,” Mia explained, pulling her phone from her pocket.

She showed him the photos she took, and for a brief moment Cyrus was distracted completely. 

“That’s so cute!” he gushed.

“Right?” 

Once she’d pocketed her phone and returned to working on his hair, he chanced another glance towards TJ, only to find that his gaze already seemed to be on him. The bright lights that framed the mirror were reflected in his eyes, and for a moment, Cyrus was lost. TJ looked back down at his mini sides as though it‘d been nothing, and he let out the faintest huff as he reached for his smoothie. 

Soon enough, they were both crossing base camp towards their trailers once more, with TJ walking so briskly that Cyrus was forced to jog at certain points to keep up. 

“Theo,” he got out, “I know something’s wrong, okay? Is it about — about what happened?“

He came to an abrupt halt in front of his trailer. Cyrus stopped too, heart racing away in his chest. The glare from the sun had him squinting ever so slightly, bringing a hand up to shield his face.

TJ turned to face him. Cyrus swallowed, meeting his gaze firmly with his own. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

A few beats passed. TJ hesitated, before shaking his head ever so slightly. Cyrus caught the movement. 

“Well...do you wanna retreat into your trailer for a bit? I don’t think we’re due on set till later.” 

“Okay.” 

The noise from outside became muffled once Cyrus had closed the door behind him, watching as TJ drew the curtains shut to block out the sunlight. He remained by the door for a moment, before crossing the trailer and settling down on the couch. TJ took the spot beside him, and the thick silence that followed lasted what felt like minutes.

TJ’s voice was soft when he spoke. 

“While I was drinking, I thought it was all fun. Marty seemed so worried all the time and I couldn’t understand why. Then, one night, I...” he shook his head, hands twisted together anxiously on his lap. Cyrus shuffled over, resting his head gently on TJ’s shoulder, and he continued. 

“I took it too far. I had way, _way_ too much. I don’t remember a lot...sirens, maybe, and Amber crying in the car. Then...I was at a hospital. I remember throwing up a lot...they had to use a tube to make sure I was still breathing. Then, I...I remember Amber coming into the room. She was crying — like, hardcore crying, and she refused to leave me the whole night. I couldn’t understand why exactly. I mean, it made sense, I was...I was sick. Really sick. Well, over the weekend, she, um...”

Cyrus could see TJ struggling again, so he wrapped his arms around him, almost not wanting to believe the words that were coming from his mouth. 

“...She told me what the doctor said to her. Apparently, my blood alcohol concentration was so high that...” he paused, letting out a shaky breath, and Cyrus felt his heart sink.

“They said that I should’ve been dead. Or...in a coma at the very least. They had no idea how I wasn’t.”

Cyrus was stunned into silence at that, barely able to register the tears beginning to make their way down his cheeks. He shook his head, turning so that he could hug TJ properly. TJ pulled him in, resting his chin gently on Cyrus’ head. 

Once he’d processed the information at least somewhat, he was able to pull away again, leaning his head on TJ’s shoulder once more. 

“Marty flew over from LA, even though he’d only been living there a few months at that point. He went straight from the airport to the hospital, and he stayed with Amber by my bedside while they monitored me. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight, but...I remember being confused...and I remember wondering why Marty was acting like I was gonna die.”

Cyrus was trying desperately to control his shuddering breaths, but he couldn’t keep the tears from falling. TJ looked over, and a guilty look crossed his face. 

“Hey,” he said, reaching out carefully to wipe the tears from his face, “I’m okay.” 

Of course, Cyrus knew that, but there was something jarring about hearing TJ recount the story. He never would’ve wished it upon anyone, but _god_, TJ of all people was the last person to deserve it. 

“I know,” he said, nodding, “I know. You can um, you can continue if you want.” 

“You sure?” TJ asked him, eyebrows furrowed slightly with concern. 

Cyrus gave a watery smile. “Yeah.” 

“Okay...well that was what made me realise I needed help. So I started seeing a therapist, and told myself I’ve never let myself get to that point again. It probably sounds stupid, but it’s been a few years now and I really didn’t think that I would even come _close_ to relapsing again. I thought it’d be okay to go out on Friday, but...I don’t think it’ll ever be okay again. It’s just...weird, I guess, knowing that Marty and Amber...they thought I was gonna—“ 

He was looking down at his lap now, clearly trying to get a grip on his emotions. Instinctively, Cyrus found himself reaching out to take TJ’s hand, enclosing it with his own. TJ’s gaze found his, and the ghost of a smile flickered over his lips. 

“I’m so sorry. That must’ve been terrifying...for what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you for staying clean for so long. Especially after that. I’m sure Amber and Marty are proud of you too. And...I’m really, _really_ glad you’re here now.” 

“...Thanks Cy,” said TJ, voice barely above a whisper. 

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Then, Cyrus was wiping away the stray tears clinging to his face and pulling his phone from his pocket with the hand that wasn’t holding TJ’s, typing in his passcode with some effort before opening up Twitter. 

“You can have your hand back now if you want,” said TJ, expression taking an amused edge.

“No, it’s okay, you can keep it,” Cyrus returned, feeling a blush begin to creep onto his face, “I just wanted to show you this.” 

He held up the phone and TJ leaned over, leaving a barely-there gap between them.

“A thread of cute cats,” he read aloud, lips curving up into a smile. 

“Yeah. I saved it a few weeks ago because I thought you might need it at some point,” he shook his head, laughing slightly, “this is what being friends with you has done. I’m saving _cat_ people threads on twitter now.” 

TJ playfully bumped Cyrus’ shoulder with his own. “Careful, Cy. Some would say that’s pretty sappy of you.” 

“Still nowhere as sappy as making your new friend a napkin flower at an Italian restaurant,” he teased, “now — appreciate this cat thread or else.” 

“Okay, okay,” TJ relented, laughing now, “cat appreciation mode activated.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet again, I love TJ Kippen :(( (but at least he got his hug!)
> 
> Kudos/comments are appreciated as always if you liked the chapter!


	14. Let Me Down Gently

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJ recieves news that he has to shoot a particular scene with Cyrus that he wasn't nervous for previously, but things change quickly when it actually gets to filming. He has a conversation with Marty afterwards about an interaction he isn't entirely sure how to interpret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, this chapter is a lil earlier and longer than usual because I was v. excited to write it!!
> 
> Trigger Warnings: brief mentions of alcoholism

_September 30th, 2019 _

The following week went by in a blur of late-night shoots and training sessions for upcoming fight scenes. 

It was ironic really, that TJ’s nervousness about relapsing only seemed to make his cravings for alcohol worse. When he let his thoughts wander, even for a moment, they always seemed to lead him towards alcohol. It stirred up a confusing mixture of emotions; one part of him eager to find some sort of relief from the guilt that still pressed at his mind, the other part of him remembering what Amber had told him just a week ago. The pure panic in Cyrus’ voice when he finally picked up his phone in that restaurant. 

He _couldn’t_ relapse. 

But boy, did his brain make it hard for him sometimes. 

Of course, if this had been his teenage self, alcohol would be the very first option at even the slightest hint of anxiety. He would’ve pushed everyone around him away in favour of a party, he would’ve allowed Reed to persuade him into taking part of a new drinking game he’d invented out of nowhere, and he would’ve allowed his thoughts to grow fuzzier and fuzzier until he was stumbling about a house he didn’t recognise in a state of total oblivion. 

Things had changed, however. He had Marty, who somehow showed him nothing but kindness despite his occasional outbursts. He had Amber, who was fiercely stubborn at times but equally as caring. He had Cyrus too, who had become a friend so quickly it was almost alarming. Even if TJ _did_ spend what seemed like every waking moment wondering what it would be like if they were _more_ than just friends. 

He knew deep down it was out of care, but that week had come with more than just cravings. It had come with Marty and Amber’s constant monitoring of him wherever he went. It was apparent they were trying to be subtle about it, but it seemed that both of them had doubled, even _tripled_, their efforts to ensure they knew exactly where TJ was going, and who he was meeting. He understood, of course he did, but that didn’t take away from the fact that it felt somewhat like he had two helicopter parents watching his every move. The day following his almost-relapse, Marty had accompanied him on a two-minute walk to the local gas station,_ ‘just to make sure’ _in his own words. 

It had eased somewhat over the week, and he didn’t feel so suffocated now as he did the few days following that night, but it was still visibly there in Marty’s eyes when he would announce that he was going out, and in the way Amber would do a sweep of Marty’s apartment on occasion, again _‘just to make sure.’ _He didn’t blame her — drinking in secret and stashing alcohol wherever he could had become a problem for him during his lowest point, but he couldn’t help the frustration that welled up inside of him every time. 

That’s why hanging out with Cyrus during the past week had felt so _freeing_. He didn’t feel as though he was some sort of ticking time bomb, really to go off and wreak havoc. It didn’t matter where they were; holed up in Cyrus’ trailer, watching trashy reality TV, up on the roof of Marty’s apartment building, looking out at the sunrise, or running along the streets of LA at 3 am after a shoot, breathless laughter filling the cool evening air. 

And every time he looked over at Cyrus, who somehow managed to look stunning no matter the situation, a pleasant ache would fill his chest. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything as _badly_ as he did in those moments, wishing on everything that Cyrus liked him the way TJ liked him. It was the sort of middle-school longing he’d felt for some of cute boys in his year, only intensified to be about ten times worse. 

So naturally, when Cyrus broke the news to him on that fateful Monday that they’d be shooting their kissing scene together that afternoon, his brain immediately went into overdrive. 

TJ knew it had been coming, but somehow that didn’t at all lessen the shock he could feel flowing through his system, as intense as the sunlight that was currently beating down on them. _Clearly_, it hadn’t gotten the message that summer had ended. 

“You’re gonna catch flies,” Cyrus informed him, amusement sparkling in his eyes as he ascended the first stair to his trailer. “And I mean, they might have protein, but I don’t think that would be much fun.” 

TJ promptly closed his mouth, feeling his face begin to warm. “When — um — when’s the shoot?” 

Cyrus looked down at him in puzzlement for a moment, as though calculating something in his head. “They didn’t exactly say when. An hour or so, maybe?” 

“Cool, cool,” TJ mumbled, nodding to himself. 

They’d just come back from an early morning shoot with the rest of the cast, and Cyrus’ hair had become messed up ever so slightly. His face was tinged with red, his brown eyes were lit up by the sun, and TJ’s panicked mind was briefly able to conjure up the thought that this stupid crush was going to _ruin_ him. 

“I remember you saying that this wouldn’t be awkward for you. Is that...” Cyrus hesitated for a moment, a strange shyness flickering over his face, “...is that still how you feel?” 

“Yes! Yeah, totally, I mean — we’re friends, right? It’s fine,” he rushed out. 

Even to his own ears, the words sounded unconvincing, and Cyrus seemed to realise it too. 

“Right...” 

TJ felt his shoulders fall slightly with relief when Cyrus turned back towards his trailer, pushing the door open and stepping aside to let him through. He followed, hit almost immediately by a cool gust of wind from the air conditioner, which appeared to be on the highest setting. The door shut behind him with a soft thud, drowning out some of the chattering from outside.

He watched for a moment as Cyrus collapsed down on the couch like he always did, running a hand through his hair to ruffle it up. A slight smile tugged at his lips as he joined him, knowing well that Mia would scold him for that later. 

“I think we’re two of the most antisocial people on set,” he said, as he shuffled around to get comfortable. 

Cyrus laughed. “You’re right, but we _did_ have that long talk with all of the cast this morning before our shoot. That’s enough of my social energy expended for the day. Or, you know, for the rest of the year.” 

Something swelled in TJ’s chest at those words. It had always been easy for him to be around Cyrus, and it was nice to know he felt a similar way. 

“The rest of the year sounds good,” he said, reaching over for the remote. 

When he settled back down against the couch, Cyrus shifted so that he could lean his head against TJ’s shoulder. TJ had to fight back a smile as he pointed the remote at the TV, pressing the ‘on’ button. It had become a regular occurrence at this point, but it somehow never failed in sending his heart racing. 

“Maybe I should change my name to ‘Cyrus Goodman’s official pillow,’” he teased, as he began to surf through the available channels. 

The smile was evident in Cyrus’ voice when he spoke. “If you don’t want to be used as a pillow, maybe you should stop being so comfortable.”

As if to prove his point, he moved over some more so that his head was against TJ’s chest.

It was safe to say TJ’s nerves had officially been set alight. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but worry that Cyrus would feel exactly how fast his heart was beating away, but he tried to push the thought aside. 

“Noted,” was all he could manage in response, bringing a hesitant arm up to wrap around Cyrus’ shoulders.

This turned out to be a bad idea, because it had Cyrus leaning into him even further. 

“You know,” he piped up suddenly, keeping his gaze firmly on the TV screen, “you’re gonna have to be careful, Cy. I might be such a good kisser that you accidentally fall for me.” 

He felt Cyrus freeze up against him for a moment and blind panic flooded his system, thinking he’d gone too far with the teasing. Then, he was looking up at TJ with a challenging smile at the corner of his lips. 

“I doubt anyone can be that good of a kisser.” 

TJ almost found the words _‘wanna bet?’ _escaping him on impulse, but he stopped them at the last moment. Cyrus continued before he could think of an alternative, however.

“Besides, it takes way more than a kiss to make someone fall for you.” 

He inhaled sharply, hoping immediately that Cyrus didn’t notice it. The blinds were drawn as they always were, and the light emanating from the screen was illuminating both of their faces in a pale glow. 

“What else does it take, then?” he asked before he could stop himself, voice soft now.

Cyrus hummed. “Like...what Noah and Miles have, you know? Trust, and stuff.” 

“Very descriptive,” TJ agreed, nodding, and Cyrus laughed. 

“There’s a reason I became an actor and not a poet.” 

“...Money?” he questioned, smiling when Cyrus lifted his head briefly from TJ’s chest to give him a glare. 

The hour went by fast, with TJ eventually finding a random food channel to entertain them both as they sat pressed up together on the couch, taking breaks occasionally to read over some lines. A knock took them both out of the stillness they’d fallen into and the trailer door was cracked open, allowing sunlight to pour inside. 

“Cyrus — and TJ too, I’m guessing — you’re both due on set.” 

“We’ll be right out!” Cyrus called, letting out a groan only once the door had closed again. 

“I’m comfortable.” 

TJ just smiled, giving his head an affectionate pat. “Too bad. We have to go.” 

“I’ve already reached my physical activity limits for the day,” Cyrus said with a sigh, getting to his feet regardless and approaching the door. 

TJ followed suit, grabbing the sunglasses he’d left on Cyrus’ kitchenette counter the previous day on his way out. Despite the clouds that drifted across the sky, moving by slowly with the breeze, there were still lingering hints of midday heat in the air. TJ could feel it weighing down on him as he walked, nervousness rising up inside of him at the prospect of what they were about to film. Small, obnoxious butterflies began to fill his stomach as they stepped into the building, door swinging shut behind them. 

The assistant director awaited them, greeting them both with a pleasant smile. “Head on over for touch-ups guys, we’re still blocking off the scene.” 

TJ could feel a smile tugging at his lips despite his nervousness. “Yeah, your hair looks like it could do with some touching up, Cy.” 

“Oh hush,” he threw over his shoulder as they began to make their way towards where Mia stood, with another crew member TJ hadn’t spoken to before. 

She tutted upon seeing Cyrus, sitting him down immediately and setting to work on his hair. TJ stood by, watching as small teams of crew members adjusted various aspects of the scene. Microphones were moved, along with lights and backdrops. The reality of what they were about to shoot sank in then.

He was going to be _kissing_ Cyrus. And it wasn’t even going to be _real_. 

A few minutes passed, during which TJ focused on taking deep breaths, before Mia was asking him to take a seat so she could touch up his make-up. He nodded, managing a small smile as he sat down opposite her. 

Cyrus offered him a mint when Mia was finished, and he accepted it with a half-hearted laugh. 

Only when they were both positioned in front of the cameras, running through a few lines so the crew could make final adjustments, did TJ begin to feel a slight sense of ease wash over him. He was in his element now after all, and if he focused hard enough, he was able to imagine himself in Noah’s shoes rather than his own. 

“Action!” 

When TJ heard that word, things suddenly seemed to feel into place. The extras that shared their scene became background noise, and the only thing he allowed himself to focus on was Cyrus. Or — Miles for now, anyway. 

“Well. This is it.” 

Cyrus let out a breathless laugh. “Yeah. This is where all hell breaks loose.” 

“I think it already has,” said TJ, shooting a glance at the nonexistent chaos unravelling in the city behind them. 

“Yeah...”

There was a pause. Cyrus let out a shaky breath, taking a hesitant step forward. TJ looked back at him, expression taking a confused edge. 

“You okay?” 

“I really don’t want you to leave. I— I know Sam needs you. I know all of them do. But—“ he paused, eyes flickering towards the ground, “I need you too.” 

And _god_, those words sounded so damn _vulnerable_ that TJ was struck for a moment. 

“Miles...I’ll be fine, okay? I promise we’ll see each other again soon. Before you know it.”

Cyrus sucked in a breath. “Okay...”

TJ lingered for a moment, opening his mouth to say something more, before promptly closing it again. He offered Cyrus one last reassuring smile before turning to leave. Exactly as it was scripted, he heard Cyrus speak up.

“Wait — Noah.” 

He turned around, meeting Cyrus’ gaze once more. 

“I, um, I just—“ 

Cyrus shook his head. His nervous expression was quickly replaced with one of determination. A few seconds passed. TJ could officially feel his heart soaring now. 

Then, before he knew it, Cyrus was surging forward and connecting their lips, standing up on his tip-toes to do so. TJ stilled with shock in a way that definitely _wasn’t_ just him playing his character, before melting right into it and wrapping his arms around Cyrus’ waist, drawing him in. Cyrus’ hands moved from his face to his chest, hands splaying across it to help him balance, and TJ honestly felt like his mind was _melting_. Cyrus’ lips were soft against his own, and he tasted like the mints they’d both had earlier, and everything about it felt so ridiculously _right_ TJ almost forgot he was on a movie set. All of the thoughts that had been racing through his mind previously seemed to slow right down, until all he could focus on was on _Cyrus_, and _kissing_ Cyrus, and how _nice_ it felt. 

_Holy fuck he was kissing Cyrus. _

They were both breathless by the time they separated, and Cyrus seemed to be in a bit of a daze, eyes flicking down repeatedly to TJ’s lips for a few long moments. 

“Just think,” he began, breaths still slightly ragged, “if you die, we’ll never be able to do that again.” 

TJ laughed. “That’s pretty good motivation to stay alive.” 

They lingered there for a moment, smiling at one another. Now that TJ had Cyrus in his space, he never wanted to let go. 

“And, that’s a cut.”

He couldn’t help but feel disappointed when Cyrus stepped back, looking towards the assistant director. 

“Was it okay?”

“More than,” he said, “we’re still gonna have to do a few more takes, though. Do you think you could leave a bit more time between Noah turning around and the kiss?” 

Cyrus nodded, directing a small smile at TJ. “Let’s kiss a few more times then, I guess.” 

“Let’s,” TJ agreed, trying hard to conceal the fact that he was still reeling from their first one. 

_It was going to be a long afternoon. _

~ 

By the time Cyrus and TJ were leaving the building again, streaks of orange and red filled the sky, signalling the approach of sunset. An unusual silence filled the air between them, one that walked a very fine line between being comfortable and awkward, and he was having a hard time for once coming up with something to say. Words weren’t exchanged as they signed out of set, or as they went into their respective trailers to collect their things. TJ was honestly beginning to grow anxious that those kisses _had_ changed things between them. 

Perhaps Cyrus had somehow figured out that TJ liked him, and was currently thinking up ways to let him down gently. A small, hopeful part of his brain had taken note of how Cyrus looked following their take — dazed, cheeks tinged red, eyes darting over TJ’s face as though he was seeing him for the first time. Then, he remembered that it was just him playing a role and that TJ was foolish for thinking otherwise, even for a second. 

This didn’t stop the thoughts, however. He was stood right in the middle of basecamp, people rushing by him in preparation for the next scene, but somehow all he could see was Cyrus as he approached. A soft breeze ruffled his hair, and a gentle smile tugged at his lips. TJ had always appreciated the way his brown eyes looked when they were lit up by the sun, but standing there in somewhat of a trance, he realised that his eyes were _equally_ as beautiful in the dark. Warm and comforting with hints of mischief, the colour of nature or mountain terrain or fall leaves—

“I should probably get back to the hotel.” 

TJ blinked at that, a blush warming his face at the realisation that he’d spent a solid few seconds just staring into Cyrus’ eyes. 

“Yeah, me too. Or, I mean, to Marty’s apartment.” 

Cyrus’ smile widened. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” 

“Yeah,” said TJ, nodding, “I’ll see you then.”

He turned to walk away, stopped only when he heard Cyrus’ voice again from behind him.

“Wait — Theo.” 

TJ froze at that, before turning slowly to meet Cyrus’ gaze. He seemed more bashful now, despite the playful smile that was still on his face. 

“You have nice eyes too.” 

_Too? _

“I — wait, did I say something out loud?” he asked hurriedly, feeling warmth spread across his face all over again. 

Cyrus shook his head. “No. You didn’t. Good to know what was on your mind, though.” 

TJ just stood for a moment, completely dumb-founded, knowing well that he probably looked ridiculous. 

“See you tomorrow, Theo,” he said, smiling, before walking off as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. 

After a few moments, TJ worked up the nerve to turn, watching as Cyrus walked away. He looked back at him as he neared the entrance, like he’d been _expecting_ him to look, and gave him one last wave.

“What the _fuck_ was that,” he mumbled to no one in particular, laughing slightly. 

It was safe to say that on the drive home, all his brain seemed to have an interest in thinking about was Cyrus, the way his lips felt pressed against his own, the way his eyes looked no matter the context, and the way he’d smiled at TJ earlier, like he _knew_. He _knew_ that TJ was an absolute goner for him. 

Marty, perceptive as he always was, took no time whatsoever to figure out why TJ was acting so distant as they lounged about that evening eating popcorn, the night sky outside dotted already by a few stars. The living room was dark apart from the large lamp that stood by the couch, bathing everything in warmth, and the peach-scented candles Marty had lined up on the counter. 

“So what’s new with Cyrus?”

“...Apart from the fact that his lips are the softest thing in existence?” 

Marty almost choked on the water he’d been sipping, which launched him into a small coughing fit that took him a few seconds to recover from. 

“And _how_, pray tell, is it that you know that information?” Marty asked him. 

“We filmed a kissing scene today,” he explained, sinking down into the couch further.

“Holy shit. How was it?” he asked.

“Good,” TJ said with a shrug. 

Marty folded his arms across his chest, giving him a look as if to say_ ‘that’s it?’_ TJ let out a heavy sigh, bringing his hands up to cover his face. 

“I’m so gay.”

“Really? I never would’ve guessed! I thought all straight guys have feelings for other guys.” 

“You’re funny,” TJ deadpanned, removing his hands from his face. 

“I know I am. Now — give me more details! What was it like after?” 

TJ’s mind wandered back to his interaction with Cyrus, and suddenly he felt shy all over again. He honestly still had no idea whatsoever what to think of it. 

“Promise you won’t laugh at me?” he asked, letting out an amused huff at the excited look that crossed Marty’s face. 

“Promise!” 

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath in, “when we were saying goodbye, I kind of — well, I was kind of thinking about his eyes—“

Marty snorted at that, which had TJ directing a glare at him. 

“Sorry! Continue.” 

“Okay, so...I was doing that...then we said goodbye or whatever, it was fine, then as I went to walk away he, um...he called me back. So I turned back around and he said ‘you have nice eyes too.’"

“Dude, _what?_” 

“I know! So I—I thought I accidentally said something out loud, obviously. And when I asked if I did, and he said something like ‘no, but it’s nice to know what you were thinking about.’ Then he walked away!” 

Marty was grinning now. “Oh, he _so_ likes you.” 

TJ buried his face in his hands again, shaking his head. “No he doesn’t,” he mumbled. 

“Seriously Teej, when do _I_ ever compliment your eyes?” 

“You do that a lot, actually.” 

“...Okay, okay, bad example, but listen to me, Cyrus likes you! There’s literally no way he doesn’t.” 

For a moment, Marty’s conviction sparked a small flame of hope in his chest, but it was extinguished as quickly as it had appeared.

“Agree to disagree then,” he said with a smile, and Marty just rolled his eyes.

He opened his mouth to retaliate again, but Amber walked in through the front door at that moment, a coffee in one hand and a small bag of groceries in the other. TJ’s heart twisted a little, knowing that before _that_ night it had been his role to go on late-night trips to the store if they needed it, but he tried to push the feeling down. Marty had stilled beside him, and their change in demeanour must’ve been obvious because Amber threw them both a confused look as she walked into the kitchen. 

“Did I miss something or what?” 

“Nothing at all!” Marty said immediately, getting to his feet, “TJ was just telling me about his day.” 

Amber still looked somewhat suspicious, but she didn’t question them any further. TJ honestly couldn’t pinpoint why he had kept his feelings for Cyrus a secret from her — he knew deep down that it was somewhat obvious, but it seemed every time he went to tell her explicitly _something_ would stop him. 

“Did you get the walnuts?” he asked as he stood up from the couch, joining them both in the kitchen. “If I have to listen to Marty complaining one more time about wanting to make walnut brownies I might cry.” 

Amber gave a fond eye roll. “Yeah. I got the walnuts.” 

Deep blues had faded to black outside by the time TJ settled down in bed, answering a few emails he hadn’t gotten the chance to reply to during the day. For what seemed like hours but was probably more like minutes, he just laid there, eyes trained on the ceiling above him. The air conditioner was running, coming on occasionally when the apartment grew too hot, and the hum it produced accompanied the sounds of traffic beneath him. 

In the end, he wasn’t exactly what made him do it. Maybe it was the thoughts that wouldn’t leave his brain, or the lingering worry that those kisses really _had_ changed things between them. Either way, he ended up dialling Cyrus’ number before he could think twice about it. The overwhelming urge to just hang up struck him as the call went through, but he managed to remain there until Cyrus picked up, his tired voice filling the stillness within his room. 

“Theo?” 

“Hey,” he said, nerves flaring up at the realisation that he had no idea what to say next. 

He heard movement and static from the other end, then Cyrus spoke up again, voice clearer now. “Hi. How are you?” 

“I’m good! How are you?” 

Something about the words seemed so forced that TJ couldn’t but wince. Cyrus didn’t seem to notice — if he did, he didn’t comment on it.

“I’m good too. Is there a reason you’re calling? I mean, I’m not complaining, but...” 

“Um,” he paused, mouth feeling dry all of a sudden, “yeah. Sort of. I guess I was just, you know, wondering if you feel awkward after today?” 

His voice had raised a few octaves by the end of the question. Again, Cyrus didn’t comment on it. 

“No, I don’t,” he assured him. “Do you?” 

TJ took in a sharp breath at that, because _yeah_ he felt awkward, but only because now that he _knew_ what it was like to kiss Cyrus he wanted to do it all the time. 

“No,” he said after a moment, lying right through his teeth. 

The silence that followed stretched out for so long, TJ thought for a moment that Cyrus had hung up on him. He went to say something, but Cyrus beat him to it. 

“You’re um, you’re a good kisser for what it’s worth.” 

_Holy shit. _

“Thanks,” he said, a smile threatening to appear on his face, “you are too.” 

Another pause. TJ could _definitely_ feel his face burning. 

“So, anything exciting happen recently?” he asked, shifting to lay on his side. 

“No, not really...wait, actually! I totally forgot to tell you about this guy Buffy and I saw while I was picking her up from the work experience place.” 

And just like that, it seemed the tension between them had evaporated. It was still there of course, but it felt more like background noise now, and TJ found himself relaxing as Cyrus’ voice filled the room. 

Even if they could never more than friends, it was conversations like the one that ensued late into the night, that made him realise just how grateful he was that Cyrus had become a part of his life. 

~

“I like Cyrus.” 

The words had escaped before he could stop them, but TJ didn’t find himself regretting it. 

Amber looked towards him, eyebrows raised slightly in amusement. It was morning now, with glittering sunlight pouring in through the windows, and they were both leaned up against the counter waiting for their toast. 

“I know,” she said, but a bright smile appeared on her face regardless as she approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “and I’m happy for you. I think you two are good for each other.” 

TJ returned the smile, feeling an odd sense of relief wash over him despite knowing that her reaction wouldn’t be bad. “You think so?” 

“I know so,” she confirmed, nodding. 

The toaster went off then, and Amber moved across the kitchen to grab two plates. 

“Do you have a late-night shoot today?” she asked him. 

He winced. “Yeah. Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” she assured him, her smile taking a bashful edge as she placed a piece of toast on each plate. “I actually have plans tonight.” 

“With who?” 

“Andi,” she said, and TJ immediately knew what kind of ‘plans’ they must’ve been. 

“A date, huh? Nice,” he said, grinning, and Amber gave his shoulder a playful shove as she passed. 

“Yeah. Some of us are actually capable of getting dates with people we like, Teej.” 

He let out an offended gasp at that. “Rude!”

“Am I wrong?” she asked innocently.

She wasn’t wrong of course, but TJ didn’t feel like admitting that aloud so he just huffed. 

“I hate you.”

“I love you too!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fellas...is it gay?? 
> 
> Thank you for reading!! Comments/kudos are appreciated as always if you liked the chapter <33
> 
> Follow me on tumblr if you want (heart-eyes-kippen) or twitter (hearteyeskippen) !!


	15. Two Truths, One Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus spends a night at home with Buffy and Andi. He and TJ hang out after their (very) late night shoot the same day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with another early + long update because I was also excited to write this chapter!!
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter: none

_October 2nd, 2019 _

Despite the roles that Cyrus was often required to play for his movies, he really wouldn’t call himself an overly confident person. Enthusiastic at times, sure, but certainly not confident. There were very few people around which he could really let his guard down, who made him feel safe, and made him feel as though he didn’t have to obsessively filter whatever nonsense normally comes from his mouth. Being his closest friends, Buffy and Andi had always been two people he could safely say he felt at ease around. They’d known one another for so long that accommodating for one another had become second nature to them all. 

TJ was — well, he was different. Cyrus felt the same level of comfort around him of course, but with it came a strange confidence he wasn’t used to feeling. He had no reason to believe TJ would ever judge him, and as a result, his filter had gradually fallen the more time they spent together. He could barely _believe_ some of the things that had left his own mouth, particularly over the last week, escaping him before he could really give it a second thought.

Cyrus Goodman was _always_ one to give things a second thought, a third thought, or even a _tenth_ thought before voicing anything out loud, so this development was somewhat alarming. 

Even thinking about all of this in the darkness of his own room had nervousness bubbling right to the surface, manifesting itself in Cyrus’ leg-bouncing, or his hand-fidgeting. It had become some strange phenomenon where thinking about TJ and his feelings sparked a whole explosion of butterflies and worries and doubts within him, but when he was actually _around_ TJ, all of that went away. Instead, he was left with a pleasant hum, there but not annoying by any means. 

He couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. His fears generally didn’t operate in that fashion — if something scared him, his first instinct was always to avoid it. Maybe it was way he felt around TJ, the way everything seemed _easy_. Feelings hadn’t always been the easiest thing for him to cope with, but hanging out with TJ always _had_ been so it left his mind confused as to how he should feel. 

Then, as he had discovered just two days ago, _kissing_ TJ also felt easy. It was like something had just clicked, and his instincts took over, and the technicalities of kissing weren’t pressing at the forefront of his mind as they usually were with staged kisses. 

A part of him knew it deep down. It didn’t take a genius to notice the way TJ’s gaze lingered on him sometimes, and how it burned. _Or_ the way he would observe Cyrus sometimes as if he couldn’t help it, like he was trying to commit every little detail he saw to memory. The larger, more vocal part of him was afraid of being too hopeful, however, of accepting that he was even _worth_ that attention.

They weren’t helpful thoughts by any means, mostly remnants from his high school days, but they cropped up nonetheless whenever his mind would wwdsdander to TJ. 

Cyrus tried to keep his gaze from lingering on TJ when he could, but even from an objective perspective it wasn’t hard to see why Hollywood directors were crazy about him. Green eyes that always seemed to be alight with some kind of mischief, dirty-blonde hair that looked so effortlessly _perfect_ regardless of how many times he ran his hand through it, soft features and a smile that he regularly saw people losing their minds over in the comments of TJ’s Instagram. Not that he stalked TJ’s Instagram or anything. 

Of course, Cyrus appreciated all of those things. When his mind wandered, it was often to TJ’s eyes, and the way they seemed to reflect all the brightness of spring in one colour. However, what he admired about TJ definitely didn’t end there. He loved how dramatic TJ could be at times, those ridiculous heart-shaped sunglasses he wore around all the time, how he could entertain a conversation with people he’d never met like nothing came more natural to him. Despite having moments where he would lash out, TJ’s effort to be kind was apparent in every little thing he did.

Cyrus was torn away from his thoughts when his phone buzzed, pale light filling the room for a brief moment. It felt somewhat strange being back at home after spending so many nights alone in his hotel. He expected to glance around and see a kitchenette before him, right beside the door to a small bathroom. Instead, he was met with the dark outline of several paintings, all by Andi of course. 

He reached for his phone, wincing when he noticed it was already midnight. 

** _Mom: _ ** _Hey, Cyrus! I know it’s late, so I won’t call you. I just wanted to check in. _

Cyrus watched as she typed another message, worry tightening in his chest. 

** _Mom: _ ** _Things are still okay on my end. It’s officially been over a month now :) _

He let out a breath at that, smiling as he typed out a response. The first was congratulatory, asking more about what she was getting up to. The second turned into somewhat of a ramble, updating her about how things were, how Buffy and Andi were. He safely kept TJ out of it, still afraid to acknowledge the rumours they both knew were flying around about them.

Minutes snuck by, and when half an hour had passed Cyrus told her that he should probably retire for the night. His eyes were burning with the effort to remain open as he rolled over, facing the night sky outside, before allowing himself to relax into a light sleep. 

~

Golden sunlight was filtering in through Cyrus’ parted curtains when his eyes fluttered open the following morning. He groaned and rolled over, still squinting while he adjusted to the light. The obnoxiously loud hiss from their milk frother rang out in the apartment, and muffled noises from the TV seeped their way through the cracks of his door. A smile tugged at Cyrus’ lips as he soaked in the familiarity of it all. 

He passed by his mirror on the way to the door, subconsciously running a hand over his hair in an attempt to smooth it down slightly. 

Buffy greeted him with a smile as she flitted about the kitchen, collecting various items for her smoothie. The curtains were drawn all the way apart in their kitchen, allowing for an uninhibited flow of morning sun.

“Hey. Did you sleep okay?” 

Cyrus jumped up onto the counter, legs dangling. “Yeah,” answered, somewhat untruthfully. “It’s nice being back here.” 

Buffy’s smile widened, and she gave his head an affectionate pat as she passed. “It’s nice seeing your face in the morning.” 

His heart warmed a little at those words. He really _did_ like living with his friends, even if it meant he didn’t have all the privacy in the world.

“It’s nice seeing yours too! Lately I’ve been seeing a lot of—“ he cut himself, feeling his face warm. It was no secret that he’d been spending a lot of time at Marty’s apartment, but something about admitting to it almost felt strangely like a confession. 

Buffy paused for a moment by the blender, eyebrows raised. Cyrus knew almost right away from the look on her that they both knew what was on his mind. 

“TJ’s face, right?” she finished, throwing in a few chunks of frozen mango. 

“Yeah,“ he confirmed after a moment’s hesitation, “Marty’s apartment is pretty close, so...I’ve been sleeping there a lot.” 

She shook her head at that, fond amusement written on her face. “You like him, don’t you?”

If Cyrus had been eating something, or even sipping a drink of some kind, he definitely would’ve gone into a coughing fit. It shouldn’t have been so unexpected considering this was _Buffy_ of all people, but it still had a jolt of shock running through his veins.

“Is it obvious?” he asked, wincing. 

Buffy placed the lid down on the blender, expression kind as she nodded down towards his hands. “You started fidgeting all of a sudden. Also — it’s kind of obvious from the way you talk to him.”

Cyrus looked down at his lap, only to find that he _had_ in fact began to fidget with his fingers. A sigh escaped him as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

Buffy pressed down on a button then, and the blender came to life with a loud whir. The noise that filled the kitchen was enough to drown out both of their voices, so the conversation lulled for a minute or so. Once the smoothie was blended, Buffy reached up to grab a few large cups from their cupboard.

“Sorry. I haven’t used it this one in a while so I kind of forgot how loud it was.“

Cyrus waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine,” he said, before pausing. “...Ugh, I have no idea what to do, Buff.”

“About TJ? Because I think you should just tell him.”

Cyrus frantically shook his head, heart skipping a beat at the mere _thought_ of doing such a thing. There was a chance, of course, that TJ liked him back, but whether or not he had any interest in actually _acting_ on that was another matter entirely. 

“Okay, let’s throw out the logic here, and the ‘what-would-Buffy-do’ mentality.” 

She scoffed as she began pouring the smoothie into a cup. “What else are you gonna do, Cy? Ignore it until it goes away?” 

“I probably could,” he said, shrugging, but the idea didn’t sound all too appealing when he thought about it. He was certainly happy being TJ’s friend, but there was something about the prospect of being more than that, of kissing him and going on dates with him, that had him feeling an excited buzz.

“Yeah. _Or_ you could just tell him,” said Buffy, as she handed him one of the large glasses.

Cyrus gave her a grateful smile. “Maybe. I guess it’s just...you know...” 

She set Andi’s glass down on the counter with a clink, eyes curious now. “I _don’t_ know, actually.” 

He could feel a small amount of shame beginning to sink in now. It was a thought he didn’t like to dwell on, but one that seemed to have a constant presence within his mind regardless. 

“I just feel like...TJ has experience, you know? With romantic stuff. Meanwhile, I’ve never even been in an actual relationship. Maybe he deserves someone who—“ 

“How do you know he has relationship experience?” Buffy interrupted him, voice scarily calm as it always seemed to be during conversations like these.

“Come on, you _saw_ all those girls back in high school,” he said, voice a few octaves higher than he would’ve liked it. He set his smoothie down and folded his arms over his chest.

“I wouldn’t call kissing girls at parties relationship experience,” Buffy argued, “and besides — let’s say he does have some experience. So what? You both clearly like each other. He clearly makes you happy. Why would you try and deny yourself that?”

Cyrus contemplated the words for a moment, swinging his legs as he did so. Buffy jumped up on to the counter beside him just as Andi wandered in, hair sticking up in all directions and eyes still slightly glazed over with sleep.

“Hey guys,” she greeted, stifling a yawn. 

She gladly accepted the glass that Buffy offered her, jumping up on Cyrus’ other side and offering them both a tired smile. 

“What’s going on?” 

Cyrus couldn’t help but smile. He gently drew Andi in, a fuzzy warmth filling his chest as it always did when his friend was being particularly endearing. 

“Buffy’s trying to set me up for doom.” 

“More like I’m trying to talk you into confessing your painfully obvious feelings for TJ!”

Andi nodded. “You should tell him, Cy. I think he likes you.”

Buffy gave him a look as if to say _‘see?’,_ and Cyrus bit his lip. He was honestly warming up to the idea now, although the prospect of it still seemed daunting. 

“Look, Cyrus — I really don’t think you have anything to lose. You two _kissed_ the other day and got over the awkwardness within like 24 hours. On the off chance that he rejects you, I’m sure you two could do that again.”

“But that kiss was fake,” Cyrus pointed out, ignoring the pang he felt in his chest at hearing his own words.

Never had he wished more for something to be real. 

“Was it though?” Andi piped up, “to either of you?” 

Cyrus had spent almost a day replaying that moment in his head — when he’d stepped away following their initial kiss. TJ’s expression had flickered slightly, toeing the line between shock and disappointment. He honestly thought he’d imagined it. 

“Technically, it _was_ fake,” he said, before dropping his voice down to something softer, “to me, though...it wasn’t.” 

Buffy shook her head, smiling slightly to herself. “You should tell him, Cy. For your own sake _and_ for our sake.” 

“What would I even say, though?” he asked, distantly able to register disbelief at the fact that he was even entertaining this idea. 

Andi took a sip of her smoothie, before setting it down beside her and wrapping her arms around Cyrus. “Tell him the truth. Maybe start with that kiss, tell him it was real for you.” 

“But don’t overthink it either,” Buffy added, “you don’t wanna stress yourself out.” 

Cyrus looked between them for a moment, face twitching with a small smile. “This is crazy...but maybe I am too because I’m actually considering it.” 

Buffy and Andi exchanged an excited glance at that, both leaning in further to fully wrap him up in a hug. He laughed, resting his head gently on Buffy’s. 

“Only do what you’re comfortable with, okay?” Andi mumbled.

“Okay,” he agreed, in barely above a whisper.

Night had fallen yet again when Cyrus and TJ were finally done with their scenes. It had been a particularly busy day of shooting, and it weighed down visibly on their shoulders as they exited set. The moon was partially hidden behind a haze of black clouds, temporarily bleaching them a light grey. Stars burned too, some dull, only flickering into existence every now and again, but others bright, shining despite the cloudy haze. 

There had always been something comforting to him about night — particularly at this time in the morning. It felt like a safety blanket, completely opposite to the harshness of day. Downtown LA would always be lit by neon lights, which he loved to walk by more than anything. 

He swallowed. “Hey, Theo?” 

TJ stopped walking at that, turning to face him. There were a few people closing up around base camp for the night, murmured chatter here and there, but they were mostly alone where they stood. Cyrus felt a rare jolt of nervousness course through him. 

“Nevermind,” he said, waving a dismissive hand, “let’s keep going.” 

Before he could turn, TJ was placing a gentle hand on his arm. Something in his expression had changed, but it was dark and Cyrus couldn’t exactly make it out. He just knew that his heart was thumping away now, and his breaths had picked up before he could even begin to try and control them. 

“Wait, what was it?” 

TJ’s hand was moving, travelling from his arm to his shoulder. Cyrus could see a trail of goosebumps being left in its wake. 

“I — well, I—“ his throat felt tight, _too_ tight. 

TJ tipped his head to the side. Cyrus found himself feeling slightly distracted by their proximity.

“Can we go to the roof?” he rushed out.

Just like that, the hand on his shoulder was dropped, and Cyrus didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. A bright smile made its way on to TJ’s face.

“Of course!” 

They’d already signed out, so after collecting everything they needed from their trailers the duo were headed towards TJ’s car. The air was unusually cold, and it had dusted both of their cheeks a light red by the time they reached it. 

Cyrus rested his head against the glass as they drove, taking in the lights that were blurring together outside.

“You look like you’re in an angsty music video,” TJ informed him.

Cyrus looked over at him with a smile. “That’s my goal at all times, so thanks.” 

“No problem! I’m wearing a denim jacket, can I be featured too?” asked TJ, a noticeable pout forming on his face. 

He let out a laugh. “Sure! Why not. Denim jackets are angsty enough, I think.”

_And TJ looked really good wearing them. So there was that. _

“It’s all coming together. Who’s gonna be directing?” 

Cyrus thought for a moment, tapping his chin. “I mean, when I was younger I always wanted to be a director. Well — I wanted to be a script-writer. _Then_ I wanted to be a director. Then, for some reason I became an actor.”

“Huh. You’d make a good director,” TJ decided, to which Cyrus smiled.

“Thanks.” 

His gaze wandered on its own accord over to TJ again, taking in the angles of his face and how soft they looked under low light. His hair was swept up carelessly, beautiful even after their chaotic day, and suddenly the ache in Cyrus’ chest felt all too much. He looked away, but TJ must’ve noticed the movement because he threw him a glance. 

“What’s up?” 

“Nothing. Just admiring.” 

Cyrus almost felt inclined to clap a hand over his mouth and begin apologising profusely, but he figured that making a big deal out of it would draw more attention to it. So, he just reverted to looking back out the window, the surface cool against his burning skin. 

“_Admiring?_” TJ asked, in what was practically a squeak. 

“Yeah,” he confirmed quietly, chancing a quick glance over. 

It was apparent even amongst the darkness that a slight red flush had appeared on TJ’s face. Cyrus couldn’t help but feel pleased. 

“Oh. Okay.” 

The drive felt longer than it normally did. Cyrus put it down to the tension that lingered in the air around them, so thick it might as well have been a material thing that was blanketing them both. When they arrived the parking lot was void of other people. Their footsteps echoed, and TJ jumped up a few times, purposefully generating extra noise. Cyrus scolded him a few times, really only for the beaming smile TJ would direct at him in response. 

There was a mirror in the elevator, and Cyrus couldn’t say that he liked being trapped in such a small space with his reflection staring right back at him. He ruffled his hair a few times, attempting to sweep it off his forehead, until eventually TJ’s hand came up to stop him.

“Your hair looks fine._“_

A playful smile tugged at Cyrus’ lips as TJ stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the mirror. 

“Seriously. It always does.”

“You flatter me, Theo.” 

There was something about the way they were stood then, barely a foot apart, that reminded Cyrus of their kiss. A smile was twitching on TJ’s face, and Cyrus could’ve sworn he saw those eyes flick down to his lips. The urge to close the distance between them like he had on Monday struck him all at once. 

The elevator came to an abrupt stop. Metal doors parted, and Cyrus reluctantly exited through them, stepping out into the hallway before them. 

The rooms were dead silent. Cyrus found himself holding his breath as they walked, approaching the small flight of stairs tucked away at the very end. TJ pulled the key from his phone case, where he had taken to keeping it, and his figure was swallowed up by darkness for a moment before being lit up again by moonlight. Cyrus ascended the stairs after him, offering a smile when TJ stepped aside to let him through. 

Cool wind hit him immediately, sending a jolting chill through his body. The moon was no longer hidden by clouds, shining alongside the stars. 

He crossed the roof, sitting himself down on the concrete right by the railing. TJ was joining him soon after, soft footsteps approaching him before coming to a stop. He sat down a safe distance away, and for a few moments, the sounds of their breathing just mingled with the sounds of movement and chatter below. The buildings before them were all lit up by various lights, shining bright even from a distance. 

TJ was the first to speak up.

“Let’s play two truths, one lie.” 

Cyrus threw him an amused look. “I feel like I’ve been magically transported back to high school.” 

“Oh come on, it’s still fun!” TJ urged, and when he was smiling like _that_, who was Cyrus to say no? 

“Fine,” he agreed, “you go first.” 

“Okay. Let me think...” he gazed out at the city for a moment. “So, the first one is...Amber and I got lost in a forest once when we were 11 and my parents had to call the police...the second is that I’ve broken my arm three times, and the third one is that I used to have five pet fish.” 

Cyrus thought for a moment, turning the options over in his head. TJ had mentioned something about owning fish at some point, so he wouldn’t be surprised if the last one was true. The first one definitely seemed like something that would happen to TJ...

“Is the second one the lie?” he asked. 

TJ arched an eyebrow. “Is that your final answer?” 

“Don’t make me doubt it,” Cyrus complained.

“Okay, okay,” he relented, smiling, “the last one is actually the lie. I had two fish, not five.” 

“Dammit! How on _earth_ have you broken your arm three times?” 

“Skill,” he answered smugly, “now — you go.”

Another brief silence fell as Cyrus thought it over. 

“Okay...” he swallowed thickly, refusing to meet TJ’s eye, “the first is that I’ve been to 4 countries in Europe. The second is that my grandma taught me how to knit and I’m still pretty good at it. The third is that...”

TJ looked over expectantly. Cyrus’ heart was in his throat. 

“The third is that I like you.” 

Once those words were out there, there was no taking them back. Cyrus kept his gaze firmly on his lap, where he was fidgeting with his hands, despite the fact that he could practically _feel_ TJ’s stare burning into his skin. He felt hot all over, even with the icy gusts of wind that swept by, replaying Buffy’s words of comfort over and over in his head. 

“Um...” TJ paused, voice hesitant in a way it hadn’t been previously, “is...is the third one the lie?” 

Cyrus finally allowed himself to look over. “Is that your final answer?” 

“Yeah.” 

_How could TJ think, even for a moment, that Cyrus didn’t like him? _

“The first one is the lie. I’ve only been to 1 country in Europe.” 

TJ’s eyes widened for a split second. He opened his mouth to speak a few times, only to close it once more and just gape, disbelief written all over his face. 

“You _like_ me?” 

Cyrus shook his head at that, huffing a laugh. “Yeah.” 

“Well, I like you too,” TJ confessed, smiling in a way that nearly had Cyrus swooning.

He returned the smile, shuffling so that he faced TJ. “Where does that leave us?” 

TJ gave a thoughtful hum. He got up from where he was sat, holding out a hand. Cyrus’ eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion, but he took the hand anyway, allowing TJ to help him to his feet. 

He was forced to look up slightly, heart fluttering when he met TJ’s gaze. His skin was still burning, and Cyrus couldn’t help but worry that TJ would feel it when he reached out, cupping the side of his face. He leaned into the touch regardless, moving forward to lessen the space between them. 

“Are we re-creating that kiss?” he teased, watching as a smile flickered over TJ’s lips.

“If it’s okay with you.” 

Cyrus didn’t think he had ever been more okay with anything. 

“Yeah. It’s okay,” he answered, voice cracking slightly.

TJ spent a few moments taking him in, and Cyrus almost had the urge to hide his face somehow. He didn’t though, taking a deep breath in and looping his arms around TJ’s neck. Distantly, he could still feel the wind breezing by, and he could still hear the cars below. Those things didn’t seem to matter so much anymore. 

He stood up on his tip-toes and TJ seemed to get the hint, his other hand finding Cyrus’ waist to draw him in and steady him. 

Cyrus wasn’t entirely sure who closed the gap between them, but one of them must’ve because soon enough there were a pair of lips against his own, and _oh_. That was different. Neither of them had prepared for this kiss, so TJ’s lips weren’t covered in vanilla chapstick this time, slightly chapped as they moved against his own. He didn’t taste like mint this time either. Instead, he tasted like the sodas they’d downed earlier in attempt to remain awake, and Cyrus felt slightly dizzy with it. He half expected someone to yell ‘cut!’ at any moment, and when he realised there was no one there to do that, he had to pull back momentarily to wipe the smile off his face before finding TJ’s lips again.

He felt light-headed when they separated, taking in every little detail of TJ’s face that wasn’t obscured by the darkness enveloping them both. TJ playfully bumped their foreheads together, which had Cyrus laughing and returning the action. 

Almost two months ago, he had told Andi things were breezy between him and TJ. She’d asked him if he meant that in a pleasant way or in a _‘moments away from turning into a storm’_ way. At the time, he’d said breezy — that’s all anyone would want from a professional relationship, right? Now however, as his eyes swept over TJ’s face, he didn’t want pleasant. He didn’t even want breezy. He wanted _TJ_, with whatever storm that might bring.

~ 

Cyrus had worried that the drive to his hotel would be one filled with awkward silence, but the conversation ended up flowing like it always did, if not _better_ now that some of the tension between them had been alleviated. It was almost 4 am now, and the streets were quiet for LA’s standards. 

He noticed at one point that one of TJ’s hands was drumming away anxiously at the steering well, much like Buffy’s did on the rare occasion she felt nervous. Cyrus took it instinctively in his own and intertwined their fingers, barely even thinking about it. Shock flitted over TJ’s face, and he realised that hand-holding was no longer simply a friendly gesture given what had just occurred.

“Sorry, is that okay?”

“Yes! Yeah, it’s good,” TJ answered, nodding.

Cyrus smiled, giving his hand a small squeeze. 

Everything was the same, but somehow everything was different too. It was _thrilling_ for lack of a better word, especially considering that Cyrus had spent so long ignoring his feelings for people when they arose, locking them up in the back of his mind and throwing away the key. 

They were quick to kick off their shoes and change into comfortable clothes upon arriving. His hotel room didn’t have the lamps and candles that Marty’s apartment did, so they were left mostly in darkness once Cyrus switched the lights off for bed.

“Are you okay with sharing with the same bed?” TJ spoke up.

Cyrus nodded. “It’s not like we haven’t shared before.” 

“Well yeah, but...you know...” 

He hummed at that, collapsing down onto the bed and bringing the covers up to his shoulders. “What do I know, Theo?” 

TJ rolled his eyes as he followed suit, settling down at the opposite end of the bed. There was a noticeable gap separating them. 

“I don’t know. What _do_ you know?” 

Silence lingered in the air for a moment. Cyrus rolled over so that he was facing the wall. 

“I know that I’m cold and I wouldn’t mind some body warmth,” he said, unable to keep a smile from creeping on to his face. 

TJ let out an amused huff at those words. Cyrus felt the bed dip slightly behind him, followed by a pair of arms wrapping around his waist. A content feeling thrummed in his chest almost instantly at the contact. It wasn’t one he was used to feeling alone in this bed at night. 

“First I’m your pillow, now I’m your heater,” TJ mumbled into his neck, which had a small shiver moving through him.

“I don’t see you complaining,” he replied, heart fluttering when he felt TJ’s smile against his skin.

“Good night, Cy.” 

“Good night, Theo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :OOOOOOO 
> 
> Fellas.............. 
> 
> Kudos/comments are appreciated as always if you liked the chapter!! <33


	16. She Lied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJ and Cyrus have a conservation the morning following their kiss, then head to set for the day to shoot an action scene. Marty and Amber have questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This chapter is slightly later than usual but also slightly longer so I hope that makes up for it <3

_October 4th, 2019_

The first thing TJ felt upon drifting into a half-asleep half-awake state was warmth. Beams of sunlight filtered in through the window behind him like woven strands, caressing his skin and creating somewhat of a haze around him. The next thing he registered was Cyrus, and the body heat he was radiating in front of him. From what his sleep-muddled brain could tell, they hadn’t moved much throughout the night. Cyrus was still curled up into himself, chest rising and falling slowly as he let out even breaths. TJ still had an arm thrown over his waist, and despite having fallen slightly the blanket still enveloped both of them in a cacoon of warmth. It was only when Cyrus shifted, so that some of his hair tickled TJ’s face, that TJ allowed his eyes to flutter open. 

Cyrus’ dark hair was made light by the sun, and when TJ stretched his arm out ever so slightly he curled even further into himself. TJ very seriously had to contain an audible ‘aw.’ 

He remained there for a moment, a fuzzy feeling of contentment filling him. It was nice. _So_ nice in fact that he really wouldn’t mind staying there with Cyrus for the rest of the day, soaking in the sunshine. Distantly however, his brain was able to conjure up the hazy thought that they _did_ have a whole day of shooting ahead of them and they couldn’t really miss it. 

“Cyrus?” 

His voice came out as a rough whisper, and he couldn’t help the wince that twisted across his face. When Cyrus didn’t move, not even an inch, TJ let out a small huff and tried again.

“Cy?” 

TJ went to withdraw his arm, a jolt of shock racing through him when Cyrus gently grabbed it and brought it back down to his waist, snuggling into his pillow.

_Yup. he was definitely awake. _

“Cyrus,” he whined, dragging out the word, “we have scenes to shoot. Aren’t _you_ supposed to be the responsible one out of us?”

He could tell from the way Cyrus buried his face into the pillow that he was smiling. TJ couldn’t help a smile of his own as he leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of Cyrus’ neck. A few seconds passed, and the temptation to just drop it was all too enticing, pressing at the back of TJ’s mind. He shook his head. 

“Baby, come on,” he said.

_That_ had the intended effect.

He felt Cyrus freeze up immediately, before turning over so that he was laying on his back, brown eyes gazing up into TJ’s. His hair was tousled, sticking up in all directions. TJ didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so perfect.

“Did you just call me baby?” 

“Did I?” asked TJ, flashing a grin. 

Cyrus huffed, blowing up some of the hair that had flattened against his forehead. “Yeah. Yeah, I think you did.” 

“Are you okay with that?” TJ asked him, voice taking a more serious edge. He trailed his fingers absent-mindedly along Cyrus’ arm, and Cyrus’ eyes darted down for a moment to observe the action. 

“Yeah,” he said, nodding, “I mean — we’re...wait, what are we? I think I asked yesterday but you ended up just kissing me,” he teased.

TJ gave a fond eye-roll, collapsing down beside Cyrus. The blanket had pooled by their waists now, and the sun seemed even _warmer_ all of a sudden, reaching both of them were they lay. 

“I’m not really...well, I haven’t really—“ TJ hesitated, wondering briefly if he should even mention his total lack of relationship experience. He turned his head towards Cyrus, only to find that he was already looking at him, curiosity all over his face. 

“Haven’t really what?” he asked, sounding oddly hopeful. 

TJ hesitated a moment longer, before looking back towards the white ceiling that spanned above them. “I haven’t really been in a relationship...well, not a long-term one, anyway,” he confessed, voice small.

He’d been far too busy repressing his feelings for boys to even _consider_ a relationship during his teenage years, and despite being constantly told by Marty and Amber it was okay he hadn’t tested the waters yet, TJ could feel embarrassment beginning to burn on his face. 

Cyrus propped his head up onto his hand, and TJ was shocked to find that his face was lit up by a smile. “Me neither!” 

“...Really?” he asked once the words had sunk in, huffing a laugh, “but you’re so...I don’t know...dateable?” 

“And you’re saying that you aren’t?” Cyrus questioned, an eyebrow raised slightly in disbelief. 

TJ smiled, although it felt somewhat forced. “I don’t know.” 

“Well...” Cyrus paused, lowering himself down so that he was practically laying across TJ’s chest, “I think you’re very dateable. And speaking of dates, why don’t we go on one this weekend?"

Cyrus had his hands rested under his chin, and he was looking up at TJ with what had to be the most adorable smile he’d ever seen. His eyes were lit up by the sun too, and damn, _how could he have possibly refused even if he wanted to? _

“That sounds nice,” he agreed, bringing a hand up to run through Cyrus’ hair, “have any place in mind?” 

“A beach, maybe?”

“Like...Long beach? Or Malibu?” 

Cyrus hummed. “Too crowded. There’s one past Malibu — El Matador State Beach. I went with Buffy and Andi a few months ago and it was really nice. More...y’know...” 

TJ gave him a playful smile. “More romantic?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, a light blush dusting his cheeks. 

TJ had been on every kind of movie date imaginable, but he could confidently say that the prospect of going on a _real_ one with a guy he liked was about ten times more exciting. _And_ butterfly-inducing.

“It’s a date then.” 

A crooked smile broke out on Cyrus’ face, and TJ didn’t think he’d ever felt so light. The last thing he’d expected from shooting an action movie was that he’d up in _Cyrus Goodman’s_ hotel room, cuddled up to him while they planned a date for the weekend. 

He really wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

~

Wispy clouds were strung across the bright blue sky above their heads, and the air was filled with chatter. It wasn’t unbearably hot but the sun was still shining, and TJ had a pair of sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he leaned up against his trailer, phone pressed to his ear. Cyrus was standing a few feet away, looking uncertain as to whether he should approach any further. 

“Marty, I’m fine okay? I was with Cyrus the whole time.” 

He heard a sigh on the other end. Suddenly, TJ felt as though he was overheating, like his body had decided to start working at a billion miles per hour. He didn’t know whether the tightness in his chest was from anger or frustration or _what_, all he knew was that he couldn’t let it show, because Marty was rightfully worried he’d gone out and relapsed. He’d been so caught up in Cyrus that he’d forgotten completely what it must’ve looked like when he hadn’t come home. 

“So you’re definitely at set right now?” 

“Yes. I am 100% at set. Want me to put Cyrus on to prove it?” 

“No,” said Marty, letting out another sigh, “I believe you. But you’ll be here tonight, right?” 

“I will be, I promise. And I’ll explain everything from last night.” 

“Okay. See you later, Teej.” 

“See you.”

TJ let out a groan the moment he hung up, sliding down against the warm metal behind him. He ended up with his back against one of the trailer’s front wheels, accidentally kicking up some dust in the process that ended up clinging to his jeans. Mia would most certainly scold him for that. 

“Are you okay?” Cyrus asked him, still hovering uncertainly a few feet away. 

TJ tipped his head back, squinting despite the sunglasses on his face. “Yeah.” 

“Yup, you definitely look like the epitome of ‘okay’ right now.” 

A reluctant smile flickered over his lips as Cyrus sat down beside him, ignoring the looks they were garnering from passing extras and crew members. TJ himself could admit it probably looked somewhat strange — two guys leaning against the wheel of a trailer, sitting on gravel when they could very well be inside. 

“He was worried about yesterday?” Cyrus guessed, placing a gentle hand on his knee. 

TJ turned his head to face him, letting out a breath. “Yeah. He was. I feel like a kid.” 

Cyrus looked pensive, like he was planning out his next words carefully. His thumb traced absent-minded circles against the denim of TJ’s jeans. 

“He was expecting you,” he pointed out eventually, keeping his voice gentle, “and you’ve been having problems recently. You can’t blame him for coming to that conclusion.” 

“I know,” he said, “I just...hate dealing with it. I hate the fact that he has to come to that conclusion. I wish I hadn’t been so fucking dumb when I was younger.” 

Cyrus went quiet. He reached out after a moment, gently pulling TJ’s sunglasses off before cupping his face, forcing their gazes to meet.

“Listen to me, Theo. You weren’t dumb. You were a kid. You were looking for a way to cope and you didn’t know any better.“ 

TJ couldn’t help but melt slightly at the way Cyrus was holding his face - grip soft and barely-there, but _there _nonetheless. He sucked in a deep breath before nodding.

“Yeah. I guess so.” 

Cyrus’ expression faded into something softer, something that had TJ holding his breath. 

“I know it sucks. And I know it probably seems like Marty and Amber care too much. But it’s not permanent, I promise.” 

Those words must’ve struck some kind of chord within him, because TJ felt as though he’d been hit all of a sudden by a landslide of emotions. He couldn’t pinpoint any of them; they all seemed to meld into one, forming a jumbled mess. All he could really bring himself to do was bring a hand up and cover Cyrus’ with his own. 

TJ was almost _certain_ they must’ve looked weird then, sharing a moment right where they were sat on the gravel, but he really couldn’t bring himself to care. Cyrus’ eyes were bright, and he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in them all day.

“We should probably go inside,” Cyrus said eventually, removing his hands and standing up. Somewhat begrudgingly, TJ followed suit, kicking up some more dust as he did so. 

Cyrus handed him his sunglasses as they entered the coolness of TJ’s trailer, illuminated by sunlight. He stopped by the mini-fridge to grab them both bottles of water, before settling down on the couch beside Cyrus. 

“So what channel should we watch this time?” he asked, placing the water bottles on the table next to them. 

“The animal one again,” Cyrus said, as though it was obvious. 

TJ smiled (he seemed to be doing that a lot lately) and stopped when he reached the channel Cyrus was referring to. He drew Cyrus in, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressed a kiss to his hair. It was slightly dizzying, knowing that they could actually _do_ these little things now, and TJ couldn’t help but feel slightly ecstatic with it. Cyrus must’ve noticed the beaming smile on his lips, because an amused expression crossed his face. He leaned in, grip tightening ever so slightly on TJ’s arm as he kissed the corner of his mouth, lips lingering there for a moment as though he didn’t entirely want to pull away. 

_Yeah. This was definitely something TJ could get used to. _

It was another hour or so before they arrived on set, and everything seemed slightly more chaotic than it normally did. It was a different place, about a 10-minute drive from base camp. They were all rushed through quick touch-ups (he was indeed scolded for the dust that still clung to his jeans) and camera rehearsals. The set that had been built up was white and sterile-looking, although TJ supposed that was the intended effect given it was supposed to resemble a government base. 

His hair had been purposely dishevelled for this scene, made to look as though he’d been running, and a light blush was applied to his cheeks too. His knuckles were made to look as though they were bruised, and grey smudges were applied to his face too. TJ had a clear view of Cyrus, who was stood in front of Mia, and he was unable to drag his eyes away. Cyrus noticed almost right away, and the smug smile that ghosted over his lips for a split second had TJ’s face heating up. 

_‘Distracted?’_ Cyrus mouthed, and TJ just rolled his eyes, trying hard to seem unbothered. It wasn’t _his_ fault that Cyrus looked so nice all the time. 

Once the crew were satisfied with how they’d blocked off the scene, TJ took his place behind a heavy set of metal doors to the right. The chatter on set died down immediately, and once a silence had been reached, he heard the word “action.” 

Madison’s voice rang out, and he heard hurried footsteps against the tiles outside. 

“This is a disaster! I can’t believe we didn’t get that stupid keycard.” 

“Sam—“

“I mean, who does that guy think he is? We need that damn thing for any of this to work!”

“Sam, I—“ 

“Now what are we gonna do, Miles? We’ve lost everyone, and we’ve lost the keycard too!”

“Sam!” 

Cyrus’ voice was forceful this time, bringing everything around them to a seeming standstill. Deafening silence filled their ears for a brief moment. Then, Madison spoke. 

“Oh my god. Miles! How did you...?”

“I stole it from his pocket,” he explained, in the most nonchalant way possible, and then Sam laughed a somewhat frantic laugh, relief flooding her voice. 

“You’re the actual best!” 

Cyrus tone quickly turned to one of playfulness. “So they say.” 

TJ listened intently to the conversation that ensued, drowning out the surrounding environment as he awaited his cue. When it came, it seemed his body reacted quicker than his mind did, and he reached out immediately to press down on the button next to him. The metal doors before him slid open, barely making a sound, and TJ approached the pair at a fast walk, running a hand through his hair. Cyrus was quick to whirl around, followed by Sam, and matching expressions of shock crossed their faces. 

“Hey,” TJ breathed out, smile turning quickly to a wince.

“Have you _seriously_ been beating people up?” Cyrus demanded, moving forward right away to examine the bruises that had formed on his knuckles. “Whatever happened to ‘discrete?’”

They were an angry mixture of red and purple, created to look recent, and TJ felt a small jolt move through him when Cyrus skated his fingers along the skin there, worry written on his face.

“It just happened,” he defended, and Madison rolled her eyes.

“It always seems to ‘just happen’ with you.” 

“They were getting in the way, what was I supposed to do?” 

“_Run_,” Madison supplied, and Cyrus nodded his head in agreement. 

“Whatever. If you come across two people that are knocked out don’t worry about it,” he said, with a slight shrug of his shoulders, and Cyrus’ eyes widened. 

“Knocked out? Oh my god, you’re an idiot—“

“A handsome idiot?” TJ interrupted with a smug smile, and Cyrus let out a huff. 

“That’s not relevant.” 

“But it‘s true?” he questioned, arms folded over his chest.

Cyrus seemed at a loss for words, face flushed a light red as he opened and closed his mouth to respond. Madison mumbled something under her breath that TJ didn’t quite catch, before piping up again.

“Now’s _not_ the time for romance, you two. We have to go.” 

He rolled his eyes at that, but the smile quickly returned to his face when he realised that Cyrus still seemed somewhat flustered, shaking his head as he turned back to Madison. 

“Okay, I think we should find—“

Madison was cut short however by a loud, echoing bang, one that had TJ jolting for real and latching onto Cyrus’ arm. He was quick to realise his mistake, letting go immediately once he’d registered the action. For the briefest of moments, amusement flashed over Cyrus’ face.

The metal doors on the opposite side of the corridor slid open, and Jonathan sprinted through, feet sounding harshly against the tiles as he hurtled towards them. 

“Um, I don’t mean to alarm you guys or anything but—“ 

“They’re all there!” 

The shout was loud and harsh. Despite knowing well that he was on a movie set, TJ felt a flash of fear run through his veins. He exchanged a look with Cyrus, subtly shifting closer towards him.

“So Sam, run or fight?” he called out, eyebrows raised. 

Before Sam could even respond, a swarm of men flooded into the corridor where they stood, and TJ immediately moved to stand in front of Cyrus, glowering at them as though _daring_ them to try anything.

“You’re here on unauthorised grounds. We’re gonna have to take you in.” 

TJ laughed, cutting through the brief silence that followed those words. “Have fun trying.”

“Wait!” 

Cyrus’ voice was somewhat shaky-sounding, but he stepped out from behind TJ with determination shining in his eyes. “Look, I’m sure we can keep this civil, okay? If you let us leave, then you’ll never have to deal with us ever again.”

TJ let out a sigh behind him, the beginnings of an exasperated smile on his face. 

Despite Miles’ wishes, as per the script, a fight _did_ end up breaking out between them all. TJ always felt somewhat weird knowing that his swings and his kicks — all blatantly missing his opponents, would be edited later on to look as though he was actually hitting them. Distantly, he could hear Cyrus still trying to be diplomatic about things, which had him rolling his eyes fondly. The guy that approached him, a snarl marring his features, didn’t find any humour in the things Cyrus (well — Miles) was saying. 

“Is your friend always this annoying?” 

TJ’s gaze snapped towards him again, and he moved forward swiftly to land a fake punch to the guy’s head, sending him toppling down towards the ground. Jonathan let out a low whistle as he passed, smirking ever so slightly. 

“Remind me never to mess with Miles.” 

Once the chaos had subsided the director announced ‘cut’, telling them all to take a quick break while they got the set ready again. The group headed over towards the waiting room, TJ collapsing down in his designated chair. Cyrus sat down beside him, scooting his chair closer. 

It wasn’t an overly large room — there was a water filtering machine pushed up into the corner, with plastic cups stacked up beside it, alongside an array of black chairs, some with specific names printed onto them and others blank. 

“You look pretty badass like this,” Cyrus murmured, bringing up a careful hand to cup the side of TJ’s face, fingers gentle as though the bruises there were real. 

TJ gave him a roguish smile. “And handsome too, right?” 

“Okay, now you sound like Noah.” 

His smile softened at that, and TJ’s urge to close the gap between them suddenly felt all too much. Cyrus’ hair had been ruffled up, and his eyes were alight with amusement as they met his, crinkled slightly at the corners. He managed to refrain somehow, glancing wearily over at their castmates before directing his focus back to Cyrus. 

“You’re stunning.” 

The words were a mere whisper, not picked up by anyone but Cyrus. A bright smile spread across his face, one that TJ was certain could light up a whole room. 

“Thanks.” 

And if their looks towards one another lingered a little longer after that, TJ wouldn’t tell. 

~ 

The sky was a velvety black by the time TJ arrived at the door of Marty’s apartment, allowing the moon to shine bright. It wasn’t particularly late; he could still hear chatter seeping in through the cracks of neighbouring apartments, and the warm lights that flooded the hallway hadn’t been shut off yet. 

TJ wasn’t quite sure why his heart was thudding away the way it was; he just knew that a few calming breaths were required before he was able to work up the nerve to open the door, stepping inside and closing it gently behind him. The familiar warmth of Marty’s apartment, always filled to the brim with lamps and candles, had his nerves settling down ever so slightly. 

Before he knew it Marty was emerging from the kitchen, walking right up to him and engulfing him in a tight hug. 

“I hate you.” 

TJ smiled at that, rocking them both back and forth for a moment.

“Love you too.” 

He dropped his voice down to something softer once they’d separated, offering Marty a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” 

It was only a few seconds later that Amber emerged too, attacking him with a hug of her own. Marty gave the pair of them a small smile, before wandering towards the kitchen. Amber’s hair was somewhat dishevelled, a few strands caught in her lip glass that TJ reached out instinctively to brush away. 

She took his hands in hers, expression shifting to one of mischief. TJ couldn’t help but feel nervous as Amber guided him over to the couch, sitting him down.

“Marty told me you were with Cyrus last night.” 

“I was,” he confirmed, unable to keep from smiling at the thought. 

“You’re smiling,” she gasped out, which had TJ giving her an eye-roll, “I knew it! Something totally happened. What was it?” 

Marty called out from the kitchen, voice accompanied by the whistling sounds of their kettle. “Wait, I wanna hear this too!” 

TJ’s exasperated facade lasted all of two seconds before fading again, replaced by a bright smile. He couldn’t help it; thinking about the previous night filled him with a jittery kind of giddiness that made him feel as though he was back in middle school. It was like his crush had smiled at him in the corridor and he couldn’t help but freak out over it completely. 

“Okay, we’ll wait for Marty to make his tea,” he said, to which Amber gave a dramatic groan. 

“Hurry up, Marty!” 

“I’m almost done, impatient one! Do you guys want any?” 

Both of them declined — TJ felt hot all over, and he didn’t think a hot drink would help with that in the slightest. Once Marty had settled down between with a fluffy blanket and a steaming mug of tea (urged on by Amber), TJ launched into a detailed recount of exactly what had happened on the roof, from the brief game they’d played, to the kiss they’d shared, to their night at Cyrus’ hotel room.

Marty looked positively scandalised once he’s finished speaking. “So you guys were right here and you didn’t say anything? You just went over to Cyrus’ hotel room to avoid us? TJ Kippen, that is _low_.” 

“Sue us for wanting privacy,” he retaliated, laughing slightly, “listening to your music and Amber’s sappy conversations with Andi over the phone isn’t exactly my idea of a romantic night.” 

“You have a point,” Marty relented, albeit reluctantly, “but sneaking around aside — you two kissed! And it was romantic as hell! And you guys are like, a _thing_. A real thing. I told you he liked you!”

“_And_ this is the first actual boyfriend you’ve had like ever,” Amber added, dramatically wiping away a non-existent tear. 

TJ just huffed. “You two are ridiculous.” 

“And _you’re_ finally dating someone,” Amber said, smiling, “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Me neither,” he admitted.

“Well, we’re proud of you,” said Marty as he leaned over to rest his head on TJ’s shoulder, TJ drawing him in. 

Amber ended up turning the TV on, flooding the living room with a pale glow. Everything felt peaceful — more peaceful than it had in the past few weeks, with the night sky outside, the candles lit up around the room, and the TV in front of them.

When a few sharp knocks filled the apartment, TJ was reluctant to get up, sighing as he manoeuvred himself out of Marty’s grip and padded over to the front door. He opened it after some minor fumbling, swinging it open to find—

“Cyrus! What are you..._fuck,_ are you okay?” 

His hair was ruffled, more so than usual, and there were obvious tear stains on his cheeks, angry and red as though he’d been rubbing at his face. TJ ushered him inside immediately, closing the door gently behind him. He held his arms out, and Cyrus walked into him, sobs beginning to wrack through his body as he hid his face in TJ’s shirt. 

TJ could practically feel Marty and Amber’s gazes on them, but he tried not to focus on that as he rubbed soothing circles into Cyrus’ back, drawing him in as close as possible. Once his breaths had evened out somewhat, and his violent trembling had eased, TJ pulled away for a moment, cautiously bringing a hand up to cup the side of Cyrus’ face. 

“She—she lied to me, Theo, she—“ he shook his head frantically, and TJ withdrew his hand, wondering if he’d ever felt his heart sink so low before. Cyrus dissolved into more tears, and TJ wrapped an arm around his shoulders, guiding him gently towards his room. 

TJ couldn’t stop the thoughts racing through his mind as Cyrus clung to him, looking more distraught than TJ thought he’d _ever_ seen him. Something tightened in his chest when they reached the room, as he barely had a moment to close the door before Cyrus was hugging him again, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. TJ held him, gently rocking them both back and forth, until Cyrus drew away on his own accord, rubbing at his face. TJ felt himself frown at that, reaching out to pull Cyrus’ hands away from his face. 

“Cy, you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want, okay?” 

Cyrus lowered his gaze down to the floor for a moment, shaking his head. “I want to.” 

They ended up on TJ’s bed, backs against the headboard, the only thing to illuminate their faces being the moonlight pouring in from outside. TJ had an arm around Cyrus’ shoulders, tracing faint patterns into the fabric of his shirt with his thumb. 

Cyrus’ voice was soft when he spoke. 

“I’ve...I’ve been talking to my mom a lot lately. We’ve been calling and texting and stuff.” 

TJ took in a sharp breath at that, one he hoped Cyrus wouldn’t notice. He had a slight idea of where this was going, and the thought made him feel sick. 

“Theo...” he paused, tears welling up in his eyes, “she relapsed. She’s relapsed multiple times in the last two weeks while telling me everything was okay. Then she called me an hour ago, completely—completely out of it, saying she was sorry. And it’s my fault. It’s my fault she’s—it’s fault she can’t—“

“Hey, hey, it’s not your fault, okay?“ TJ interrupted, trying to keep his tone as gentle as possible, “you said it yourself, Cy. You did what you had to. You called her constantly after you left. I mean — you even started talking to her again after she ghosted you for all that time. Whatever happens with her, it’s _not_ your fault. Recovery is hard, even with a therapist. Take it from me."

Cyrus let out a shuddering breath at that, giving a small nod. “I just want her to be okay. I understand why she thought she should lie, but...I was getting my hopes up...”

“I know,” TJ said softly, resting his head on Cyrus’, “I’m sorry.” 

Silence blanketed them for a moment, save for the noise coming from outside. 

“I’m tired,” Cyrus told him eventually, and TJ nodded. 

“Let’s sleep.” 

TJ lent him a pair of sweatpants and one of his old band shirts, which he kept despite the fact that it had become slightly too small for him. While Cyrus used his bathroom to get ready for bed, TJ entered the living room, approaching the couch where Amber and Marty were still sitting. They looked up immediately when they heard him, with Amber turning down the volume on the TV. 

“Is he okay?” asked Marty, voice low.

TJ glanced wearily back over at the room. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “I think he’ll need some time. But he’s okay for now. I think he’s gonna stay the night.” 

Marty nodded. “Tell us if he needs anything, okay?” 

“Okay,” TJ agreed, leaning over to give both of them a hug, “goodnight guys.” 

They both smiled, albeit rather sadly.

“Goodnight, Teej,” said Amber. 

“I’m probably gonna finish up some work,” Marty added, “so if you need me I’ll be in the studio.” 

TJ nodded, offering both of them one last smile before heading back to his room. It was dark, but he could still make out Cyrus’ form, curled up the way he always was while he slept, the blankets drawn up to his shoulders. TJ made quick work of discarding his shirt and finding another pair of sweatpants, joining him in bed.

He hesitantly wound his arms around Cyrus’ waist, and Cyrus reached down, placing his hands on TJ’s arms to keep them in place. TJ smiled, pressing one last kiss to Cyrus’ hair before letting his eyes flutter shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me vs. Ending my chapters on a sad note 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys liked the chapter! Kudos/comments are appreciated as always if you did <33
> 
> P.S - I often don't have time to respond to comments right away but I promise you I read and appreciate them all endlessly! Thank you to anyone who's ever commented, they make my day :)


	17. As Many Times As It Takes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJ and Cyrus have an encounter while grabbing breakfast together on Saturday morning. Cyrus struggles to shake his feelings of guilt, despite what TJ tells him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is the last chapter I'll probably be posting for a few weeks (exams are coming up unfortunately) but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter: mentions of alcoholism and addiction, spiraling + anxious thoughts

_October 5th, 2019_

It was stupid. Cyrus knew it was. 

It wasn’t as though he didn’t have experience. It wasn’t as thugh TJ hadn’t warned him just three weeks ago that taking the first step was hard, but actually _recovering_ was harder, no matter how much someone tried. He wasn’t the 14 year old he once was; succumbing to blind panic and hanging up on his mom while she was clearly vulnerable had hardly been a rational response. He knew that. 

The truth was, Cyrus couldn’t help but think sometimes that addiction had wound its grip around his mom so tight that there was no escaping it. Sometimes in the darkness of his room he couldn’t help but think that despite how often his mom relapsed, despite how often everything came crumbling down around her, it would always chip away at him. Piece by piece, until he couldn’t hold up the facade anymore, until he couldn’t pretend that it wouldn’t happen again. Until he had to accept that becoming close to his mom would inherently mean dealing with her relapses.

The most painful thing about it all — the thing that felt almost like a winding punch to the stomach each time he thought about it — was what his mom had to go through. All she’d known for _years_ now was alcohol. At her lowest points, she’d been forced to watch as Cyrus grew more and more distant. It wasn’t a conscious choice, but it was certainly evident in how numb he’d become to her breakdowns by the time he was 18. This time, it had hit him like a pile of bricks.

Cyrus wasn’t normally one to get angry. He didn’t like the feeling, or the way it seemed to set something alight inside of him. Red, and hot, and _bitter_. Sometimes however, he couldn’t help it. He certainly couldn’t blame his mom for what she was going through. He couldn’t blame his dad, as much as his younger self would argue with that. There really wasn’t _anyone_ to blame for the fact that his mom’s life had repeatedly been torn to shreds, so naturally, he’d taken to blaming himself. This wasn’t something he voiced aloud often, but it was most certainly _there_, pressing at the back of his mind when he was, winding its way around his heart. 

Cyrus could’ve done more while he was in Shadyside. He could’ve stayed, because _sure_ there weren’t any acting schools there, but _maybe his mom would be okay now. _He could’ve stopped being so stubborn with his dad, he could’ve asked him to intervene earlier than he did. He could’ve found a way to pay for her therapy sooner — it wasn’t as though he was strapped for cash, after all. He could’ve called the hospital all those times he’d promised he wouldn’t, because his mom was sobbing, telling him she didn’t want help, but he was fifteen and he just wanted everything to _stop_. 

A wince crossed his face at the memories that crashed down over him, as though some kind of floodgate had been opened. They weren’t ones he liked to remember. In fact — it had been a long time since he’d recalled those particular nights. Something about the way his mom had sounded over the phone the previous night, her voice wavering, cracking as though she was actively forcing each word out between sobs, had brought him back to those times. The fraught silence that had followed seemed to swallow up every single response his brain could think up, and ultimately, he’d hung up. 

How, regardless of the things TJ, Buffy, Andi, _everyone_ said, could he not blame himself? 

Almost coincidently, the moment his thoughts turned to TJ he felt the mattress shift slightly beside him. Cyrus snapped his gaze away from the ceiling, attention captured instead by TJ. He was laid on his back, chest rising and falling with each slow breath, expression completely devoid of any tension. His shirt was all crinkled, a section of tanned skin visible right beneath his collarbones, and despite the worry that had tightened in his chest, an involuntary smile tugged at his lips.

Cyrus was almost inclined to cuddle up to him and attempt to fall asleep again, but the realisation dawned on him that his throat still felt scratchy from the hours he’d spent crying. He pressed a soft kiss to TJ’s forehead, lips barely grazing his skin, before untangling himself from the blankets as quietly as he possibly could and getting up from the bed. 

From what he could tell it was late morning — bright sunlight filled Marty’s living room, and through the windows he could see people already going about their days below. The sky was a clear expanse of blue, interrupted only by a few wispy clouds. 

“Hey, Cyrus!”

Cyrus blinked at that, halting by the doorway as he peered into the kitchen. Amber was leaning up against the counter, a coffee mug in one hand and her phone in the other. There was movement from the couch, then Marty’s gaze was on him too, expression falling ever so slightly with concern. 

“Um,” he paused, clearing his throat, “hey guys. I was just getting some water, sorry.” 

He knew his embarrassment was probably radiating off him, but he couldn’t help it. They were both clearly curious, even if neither of them would voice it aloud, and he _had_ kind of showed up unannounced last night with tears streaking down his face. 

“Don’t be sorry! I’ll get you some,” said Amber.

She set down the coffee mug, tossing her hair over her shoulder and moving towards the cabinet for a glass. Cyrus reverted to fidgeting nervously with his fingers, unsure of what exactly they expected him to say, if _anything_. 

He offered Amber a timid smile as she handed him the glass of water, taking a small sip almost immediately in attempt to stall. 

“I’m sorry for crashing here, by the way, I know I never really asked,” he spoke up, voice strained even to his own ears. 

Marty got up from the couch, carrying a mug of his own as he joined Amber by the counter. 

“It’s okay, you can crash here anytime.” 

Cyrus’ immediate instinct was to apologise for apologising, but he managed to push the urge down in favour of giving Marty a smile.

“Thanks.” 

Silence fell for a moment. Cyrus took another sip of his water, unable to keep his mind from wandering to that phone call he’d had with his mom. The room suddenly felt hot, as though the sunlight pouring in had intensified somehow, and he was on the verge of excusing himself when he felt a pair of arms wind around his waist, drawing him in. He froze up immediately, only to melt into it once he realised who it was. 

“Are they annoying you?” TJ mumbled, voice heavy with sleep. 

Cyrus’ heart fluttered. His head fit almost perfectly underneath TJ’s chin, and he wasn’t sure what it was about the feeling of TJ’s arms looped around his waist, but it seemed his nerves had been reduced down to a fuzzy ball of comfort. 

“No,” he whispered back, well aware of the stares they were receiving from Marty and Amber. 

He had every intention of asking Amber and Marty whether they had any plans for the day, but then TJ began pressing little kisses to the back of his neck as though it was the most casual thing in the world and_ oh boy, there go the butterflies. _

“Um—“ Cyrus paused for a moment, unable to keep from laughing as he swatted TJ away, “have any plans for the day?” 

Amber’s eyebrows shot up, but she seemed to decide against saying anything. Marty was hardly trying to cover up the wide grin on his face. 

“Well, Marty’s gonna be boring and do work, so I think I might ask Andi if she wants to hang out,” Amber said with a shrug. 

“She’ll say yes for sure,” said Cyrus, “I don’t think she can go a day without talking about you.”

Amber’s face lit up. “Really?” 

“Really,” he confirmed, a smile flickering over his lips when he felt TJ nuzzle into his neck.

Cyrus had seen a lot of cute things in his lifetime. He could safely say that TJ just after he’d woken up was most certainly up there. For a split second he was even able to forget about his mom, consumed instead by the electricity that was humming beneath his skin.

“Wanna go get breakfast? We can talk when we get back. If you want.” 

Cyrus nodded, grip tightening ever so slightly on TJ’s arm at the reminder.

“Cyrus and I are gonna get breakfast,” TJ informed them, and Marty shot the pair a smile as he crossed the kitchen.

“Fine by me. Remember to check the list!”

Cyrus looked curiously up at TJ, whose expression seemed to have hardened slightly. He didn’t say a word until they’d entered his room again, with Cyrus drawing the curtains shut as he passed so they could get changed. 

“The list...?” he questioned, and TJ just rolled his eyes. 

“Marty gave me a list of places nearby that serve alcohol so I can avoid them.” 

“Oh. Well, I mean...that’s good, right?” 

TJ’s eyebrows furrowed at that, and he opened his mouth seemingly to disagree. Something swept over his face that Cyrus couldn’t quite pinpoint however, and he quickly closed it again. 

“Uh, yeah,” he agreed eventually, in a way that didn’t seem entirely sincere, “I guess so.” 

TJ’s first real acknowledgement of what had occurred the night before was on their walk to the café. His voice was so soft in comparison to the bustling streets around them that Cyrus had to ask him to repeat what he’d said. 

“Are you okay? You seem kind of distant.” 

The sun was high up in the sky by now, it’s effects dulled only slightly by the breeze that ghosted by. It had been almost perfect really — TJ had an arm around his waist, and he had those _stupidly_ adorable heart-shaped glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Now however, the smile on his face had been replaced by a frown and it was _Cyrus’_ fault. 

All of the surrounding noise blurred into one big, overwhelming jumble. The amount of people that inundated the streets, elbows brushing as they passed, suddenly seemed all too much. TJ was still glancing over at him as he guided them both through the swarms, lips pressed together into one thin line, and _fuck, did his vision always swim like this? _

_It was his fault. His fault that his mom hadn’t recovered sooner. His fault that she was probably alone at that moment, ridden with guilt. His fault that TJ couldn’t just enjoy his Friday night like a normal person without being bothered. His fault that TJ was worried right now._

“Cyrus? Do you wanna—“

“Hey, TJ! Over here!” 

TJ whirled around at that, mumbling an apology to the people he’d stopped and stepping aside, gently tugging Cyrus along with him. 

“Someone you know?” asked Cyrus, feeling somewhat bad about the vice grip he had on TJ’s hand. 

TJ’s gaze was trained firmly on a particular point within the crowd that Cyrus couldn’t make out, eyes narrowed. 

“No,” he replied after a moment’s delay, “let’s go.” 

Cyrus hesitated before nodding, but when the shouting started up again, closer this time, he knew instantly what was going on. 

“Paparazzi?” 

TJ let out a sigh, drawing Cyrus in closer. “Yeah. Just ignore him.” 

Cyrus obliged, almost grateful for the distraction from his thoughts. The noises around him didn’t seem as loud as they had just minutes ago, and the air didn’t feel so heavy. He could feel the tension that TJ was carrying now however, especially in the way his jaw was set. 

“Are you guys out on a date?!” 

The voice was coming from right beside them now, and TJ arm was moving up, settling around Cyrus’ shoulders instead. 

“Was that your way of saying ‘no homo’?” asked Cyrus, pleased by the grin that cracked TJ’s annoyed facade. 

“A hand around a shoulder is easier to explain away,” he replied, smile turning into somewhat of a smirk, and Cyrus felt his stomach flip. 

“At least you'll look good in the photos,” Cyrus told him, and TJ let out an airy laugh. 

“Thanks.” 

They didn’t garner much attention beyond bewildered stares. People began parting to allow them past, which ended up making their trip to the café more tolerable. After pulling no reaction from either of them, the man seemed somewhat desperate by the time TJ was holding the glass doors open for Cyrus. Poised with his over-the-top looking equipment in hand, he asked one last question that had TJ freezing in his tracks. 

“What do your parents think of your relationship?”

Cyrus didn’t know an awful lot about TJ’s dad, but from what he _did_ know, TJ’s relationship with him wasn’t particularly great. Still, the question had clearly struck some kind of nerve, because TJ turned almost immediately to face him. 

“Don’t you have other people to be making money off of?” he asked, in a way that was so contained Cyrus couldn’t help the worry that tightened in his chest. It almost seemed as though there were flames dancing below the surface, concealed only just by the facade TJ was holding up. 

“TJ, let’s go.”

“Can we take that as a confirmation that you two have a thing?” asked the man, offering him a toothy grin that suggested he was _well_ aware of the way TJ had been affected by the question. 

“No, but you can sure as hell take it as a confirmation that you need to fuck o—“

“Okay! We’re going!” Cyrus announced, with the sweetest smile he could muster. He took TJ’s hand, practically dragging him into the café and towards the most secluded booth he could find. 

It was a new café from what TJ had told him; all rustic furnishing, a few paintings with inspirational quotes incorporated into them. TJ took his sunglasses off, placing them down on the table in front him and sinking down into his seat. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Cyrus shook his head, a slight smile forming on his face as he took TJ’s hands and intertwined their fingers. 

“It’s okay. He was being annoying.” 

TJ tipped his head down, fixing his gaze on their hands. He looked tired now that Cyrus was taking him in properly, and that same guilt from before began to creep up on him. 

“While we’re apologising, I’m sorry for showing up so suddenly yesterday,” he rushed out. “I know you probably had better things you could’ve been doing.” 

TJ went quiet at that, and Cyrus’ brain went into complete overdrive. Thinking he had left him with no way to respond, Cyrus went to pull his hands away, but to his shock TJ sat up and took them again, shaking his head.

“Cy, you don’t have to apologise for that. I was the one that told you to let me know if...you know...” 

It was true. TJ _had_ told him to call if things ever got bad with his mom. But that wasn’t enough to dispel the guilt that settled deep in the pit of his stomach. 

That seemed to be all he could feel since yesterday. _Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. _

“Yeah...” Cyrus trailed off, and TJ seemed to sense that he still wasn’t entirely convinced.

He let go of Cyrus’ hands, reaching out to gently cup his face instead. His hands were warm against his face — Cyrus remembered TJ saying he always ran hot — and it was hard to look away when TJ’s gaze had become so _soft_ all of a sudden. 

“Cyrus, listen to me, okay? I. Care. About. You. And I don’t mind saying it as many times as it takes. If you’re upset, you can come to me. No matter what.” 

Cyrus was honestly scared TJ would be able to feel how hot his face was growing, but he tried to push the thought down. He could tell TJ was being completely serious, and even if a part of him didn’t believe it, the words were still comforting to hear. 

“Okay.” 

A smile broke out on TJ’s face, one that had Cyrus smiling too. He dropped his hands, and Cyrus almost felt disappointed. 

“Let’s go order, shall we? I’m guessing you want—“

“A mango smoothie, yes,” Cyrus nodded as he stood up from his chair, and TJ laughed. 

“A mango smoothie it is.” 

It was almost midday when the pair arrived back at Marty’s apartment, and sprawled across TJ’s bed with his head propped up on his hand, Cyrus knew. He knew from the way TJ seemed hesitant all of a sudden, playing with his fingers, that he wanted to ask about his mom but he wasn’t sure if he should. Cyrus remained silent for what felt like minutes before speaking up. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he confessed, voice small. 

TJ’s hand found his arm, and soft fingertips grazed along the skin there for a moment, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Sun poured in from outside, painting tanned skin and dirty blonde hair gold. 

“It’s hard,” TJ agreed in a murmur, “but I think you should set up a few boundaries, y’know?”

“Like what?” asked Cyrus. 

“Well...for starters it’s possible what happened yesterday could happen again. Do you think you’d be able to handle that? If you continued talking to her, I mean?” 

Cyrus’ thoughts raced for a moment. _Could he handle that?_ Sure, he could handle the _idea_, but hearing how wrecked his mom’s voice was over the phone had been another matter entirely. 

“...Yes,” he said, albeit unconvincingly.

“Cyrus...”

“I’m not letting her go through anything alone again, Theo. I don’t care.” 

TJ’s eyes searched his face for a moment, and Cyrus couldn’t help but direct his own gaze down towards the bed.

“Okay. I get it. But if she’s in whatever state she was yesterday, then she shouldn’t be calling you. There are people she can be calling who know how to deal with that type of stuff.”

“But she feels more comfortable calling me. And I just...” he cut himself off after that, pressing his lips together. 

TJ’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Cyrus. You were clearly upset by it. And you’re not obligated to deal with anything that upsets you that much just because you’re her son.” 

Cyrus knew he was right deep down. He just didn’t particularly want to admit it. 

“But I still wanna know how she’s doing.” 

“You can still know how she’s doing! But...it might be worth telling her it’s best if she calls her therapist, or a helpline or something.”

He turned the words over in his head for a moment, before giving a slow nod. 

“Yeah...you’re right.” 

TJ visibly brightened at that, rolling over so that he could wrap his arms around Cyrus’ waist and gently pull him in. Cyrus buried his face in TJ’s chest, content to remain there for a lingering moment as they soaked in the midday sun.

“Are you still okay with our date being tomorrow?” TJ asked, “because we can postpone it.” 

Cyrus smiled into his shirt. “No, it’s okay. Tomorrow’s good.” 

~

Cyrus hadn’t given much thought to the paparazzi they’d encountered until late afternoon rolled by, in a haze of warmth and Netflix movies. He’d started out merely leaning his head on TJ’s shoulder, but by the end of their second movie he was laid across his lap, TJ’s fingers running absent-mindedly through his hair. His eyes gradually closed, only to snap right open again at the loud buzz of TJ’s phone. 

“Sorry,” TJ whispered, although the amused expression on his face seemed to suggest he wasn’t overly remorseful. “I think I should probably take this.” 

It took a moment for Cyrus to psych himself up before he was able to lift himself from TJ’s lap, blankets tumbling to the floor as he did so. TJ left the room, and Amber, who’d been tapping away at her phone and not paying the movie much mind, gave him a smile.

“He really likes you, you know?” 

Cyrus looked over at that, an odd sense of bashfulness coming over him. 

“I like him too.” 

Amber went quiet for a moment. The expression on her face looked almost identical to the one TJ wore when he was uncertain about something. 

“I hope you’re okay now, by the way.” 

Cyrus knew well that claiming he was okay would be a lie, so the words had him hesitating for a moment. 

“Thanks! I’m, uh...feeling better now.” 

Amber looked as though she wanted to say more, but seemed to refrain at the last moment. Cyrus wracked his brain for a way to keep the conversation from lulling. 

“So...you went to Jefferson too, right?” he asked, shifting in his seat. 

She nodded, and Cyrus frowned slightly. “I don’t remember seeing you around a lot.” 

“I was in the year above,” she explained, “so was Marty. TJ was with you guys.” 

“Oh, right!” he said, before pausing. “So...do you know how Iris is doing?“

A smile broke out on Amber’s face. “Iris is good! She’s looking after Chérie while we’re gone, actually.” 

Cyrus went to respond, but TJ chose that moment to raise his voice, with a very distinct “well okay then, fuck them!” reaching the pair where they were sat on the couch. 

They exchanged a glance, matching smiles of amusement painted across their faces. 

“He’s very eloquent, isn’t he?” asked Amber, and Cyrus couldn’t help a small laugh. 

“Yeah. His word choice is pretty compelling.” 

All of about 2 seconds went by before TJ was entering the room, pocketing his phone with a sheepish smile. 

“Sorry. That was Matt.” 

Cyrus paused for a moment, trying hard to remember if he’d heard TJ mention that name at some point. Before he could say anything however, TJ was continuing with a small sigh.

“Apparently there are already some articles floating around about how I ‘completely lost it’ and snapped at an innocent paparazzi guy.” 

“Well that was quick,” Cyrus mused, “do they want you to address it?”

“No, they’re saying I should just leave it...I want to, though. In like...a non-serious way, at least.”

Amber was looking between them as they spoke, clearly confused. 

“Wait, rewind, _what_ happened exactly?”

“There was a guy taking photos of TJ and I today,” explained Cyrus, “he was asking questions and...one of them, um...”

TJ tensed up almost immediately at that, keeping his gaze trained pointedly on the wall in front of him. 

“He asked if my parents knew about us. Normal reporter question I guess, but...”

“I get it,” Amber assured him, and it was Cyrus’ turn to be confused as he watched her wrap TJ up in a hug and rest her head on his shoulder. 

_Was there something going on with TJ’s parents he didn’t know about? _

The question was still pressing at his mind on the drive home, bright blues fading to various hues of pink and red. It lingered there even when Buffy and Andi embraced him in a tight hug, insisting that they’d be there for him no matter what. 

“You know, we haven’t had a girls night in a while,” said Buffy, as she collapsed graciously down onto the couch. “I could do with a face mask...and we _did_ buy those scented candles...” 

Andi clapped her hands together. “Girls night it is!” 

Cyrus looked between the pair for a moment, unable to fight back a fond smile. “I’m in.” 

“Great! I’ll go get the masks, Andi you go get the manicure supplies, and Cyrus, you go get the food.” 

“On it!” 

The realisation that dawned on Cyrus then was a fairly obvious one, however, it always seemed to be the first thing that slipped his mind whenever his thoughts would spiral. There would always be moments where it seemed the universe was actively _trying_ to whittle him down until there was nothing left of him. But there would also be little moments like these; late nights of face masks and manicures and horror movies, with nothing but candles to fend off the darkness, where for a pocket of time everything else didn’t seem quite so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would die for Buffy and Andi send tweet
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading! Kudos/comments are appreciated as always if you liked the chapter <33


	18. Golden Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TJ and Cyrus go out on their first date. TJ, Marty and Amber go rollerskating together, which leads to a conversation between Amber and TJ about his dad's texts to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I have returned! Sorry for the wait with this one, exam season took up a lot of my time but I'm done with all of them now and I should be free to write more.
> 
> Trigger Warnings for this chapter: mentions of homophobia

_October 6th, 2019 _

** _theo: _ ** _heyy!! just confirming — can i pick you up at about 5? xx _

** _cy<3: _ ** _yes! 5 is good xx_

TJ would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous about their date. He’d acted in his fair share of romances, he’d seen dates fold out on screen in the darkness of his room, but he had certainly never _been_ on one. 

He paused in his pacing for a moment to scan the sky outside. It was another clear day luckily enough, uninterrupted blue and plenty of sunshine. According to the forecast he’d checked, there wouldn’t be any need to worry about bad weather later on either. 

_Yeah. Maybe he was in a little too deep._

In all fairness however, TJ blamed Cyrus for making it so _stupidly_ difficult not to fall. 

A fraction of a smile ghosted over his face. If Amber weren’t out with Andi at that moment, she would definitely be scolding him for being so nervous. 

_You two have literally already kissed! A date is nothing, Teej! _

Somewhere amongst the various thoughts clouding his brain, he was able to register the sounds of soft footsteps padding along the carpet, then Marty was entering the room. TJ continued pacing, only coming to an abrupt stop when Marty let out a snort. 

“Is there something on your mind, pumpkin?” 

“Never call me that again,” TJ warned, before resuming with his pacing. 

He felt a small pang of guilt following that, but Marty didn’t seem to mind because he just gave a laugh.

“Please don’t tell me this is about your date with Cyrus.” 

TJ could feel embarrassment burning on his face at that. The room seemed to become a few degrees hotter at the mere _mention_ of their date that day. 

Marty’s tone shifted to something more gentle. 

“TJ. This doesn’t have to be different to your other hang-outs just because it’s called something else. Cyrus likes you already, you don’t have to worry.” 

“What if we run out of things to talk about?” he asked, voice taking a somewhat hysterical edge. 

Marty's eyebrows furrowed slightly with concern. He approached carefully, placing both of his hands on TJ’s shoulders.

“Does that usually happen?” 

“Well, no, but—“

“There you go! Seriously, just treat this as a hangout and you’ll be fine.” 

TJ opened his mouth to protest some more, before closing it again. Marty _did_ have a point after all, even his panic-riddled brain could acknowledge that. He lingered there for a moment, before giving a resigned nod and making his way over to the couch. 

“You’re right.” 

Marty’s expression lightened almost immediately with mischief. “What was that?”

“I’m not saying it again,” TJ warned, but he knew the fond smile growing on his face probably gave him away. 

Marty’s smile only widened as he walked around to the back of the couch, passing by the counter. TJ, despite knowing exactly where Marty was, still felt a jolt of shock race through him when he felt a pair of sunglasses being slid onto his face. 

“You’ll need these obnoxious things!” 

“They're not obnoxious!” TJ argued, face burning red as he placed them down on the arm of the couch, “but...I’m still not gonna wear them. I need to look cool for once.” 

He heard Marty scoff behind him. “_Cool?_ This isn’t high school anymore. I’m sure _Cyrus_ of all people doesn’t care about cool.” 

TJ just folded his arms over his chest, watching as Marty circled back around to collapse down on the couch beside him. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“I don’t,” Marty insisted, frowning slightly, “doesn’t he always see you wearing those things?” 

“Yeah, but...this is different.” 

“It doesn’t have to be,” said Marty, “besides, I’m sure you’d know by now if he didn’t like them.” 

“Would I?” TJ challenged, arching an eyebrow, “I think he’s too nice for that.” 

Marty let out a sigh at that, and TJ couldn’t help but feel slightly bad. He knew he was probably being slightly over-the-top, but his mind had been in overdrive the whole morning and he was having serious trouble trying to be even a little bit rational. Being with Cyrus was usually comfortable; it was as though a pleasant hum of electricity underlied their interactions, one that TJ could confidently say he would never get tired of. Now it seemed that electricity was going haywire, sending his thoughts everywhere. 

“He likes _you_, Teej. That’s why he’s going on this date with you. Heart-shaped sunglasses and all, I promise.” 

TJ looked over, and he could tell almost instantly that Marty was being serious. A small smile appeared on his face at the thought. 

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I’ve been right a lot today,” he teased, surprised laughter escaping him when TJ gave his shoulder a playful shove. 

“Don’t push your luck.” 

“Okay, okay,” he relented, raising his arms in mock surrender. 

The next few hours were almost excruciating with how slow they crept by. TJ was practically itching to get out of the door when 3:30 rolled around, grabbing his bag and getting up from his seat. The sun was no longer high up in the sky now, lowered down instead towards the horizon. Various shadows were cast upon the walls of the buildings he drove by, tinged a warm gold.

Driving gave him something to focus on that _weren’t_ the thoughts swirling around in his head. However, the moment he parked outside of Cyrus’ shared apartment, the humming sounds of the engine ceasing, it seemed his nervousness crashed over him all at once in one big landslide. His grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles began to turn white from the pressure, and he quickly drew them away with a sigh. 

_Get yourself together, TJ. _

A gust of cool air hit his face upon opening the car door. He took one step. Then another. Then another, until he was at Cyrus’ door, knocking before he could even think twice about it. It swung open soon after, warm light flooding out onto the porch. 

“Hey!” 

Something about being met with Cyrus’ smiling face had TJ’s worries melting down into something more bearable. 

“Hey!” he greeted, “are you ready to go?”

Cyrus nodded in response, stepping out and closing the door behind him. He linked his arm with TJ’s, immediately launching into a story Andi had told him about the guy from her studio — it always seemed to be him, ever since that ranch fiasco. 

TJ paused when they reached the car, unable to tear his eyes away from Cyrus. His brown eyes glistened, reflecting the warmth of the sun, and for a moment he couldn’t help but wonder why he had been nervous at all. 

“Is my story not interesting?” asked Cyrus, feigning offence. 

TJ shook his head in a somewhat frantic manner. “No! No, it is. I just...you know,” he waved his hands about as though somehow that would perfectly relay his thoughts. 

Cyrus arched an eyebrow at that, but there was obvious amusement on his face. “Yeah, I totally get that.” 

TJ ducked his head as he opened the passenger car door for Cyrus, feeling warmth begin to creep up on his face. “I was just distracted, that’s all.” 

“Why thank you. And when you say distracted, do you mean by my eyes?” Cyrus teased, as he climbed into the car. 

“You have nice eyes,” TJ returned, circling around to the driver’s seat, “sue me.” 

Cyrus hummed. “Maybe I will.” 

TJ couldn’t help but laugh as he sat down, closing the car door with a slight thud. “Good luck with that.” 

The weather held up during their drive (although, really — LA was always pretty clear, TJ shouldn’t have been overly worried), and by the time they were pulling into a sand-riddled parking lot the sun was beginning to near the horizon. It was almost like a painted picture through the windshield, various hues of orange streaking across the sky, and it had both of them enraptured for a moment. 

Cyrus cleared his throat. “We should go. They might...run out of ice creams or something.” 

TJ threw him an amused look. “Yeah, maybe.” 

Somehow, the bustling environment of downtown L.A. seemed worlds away from the salty ocean air they stepped out into. Ahead of them spanned a sandy beach with various rock formations scattered along it, clearly whittled down by the waves. Some of them formed archways, whilst others, large and imposing, resembled jagged shapes. 

Cyrus looked astonished, and TJ tried hard to keep his gaze away from him but he just couldn’t. Remnants of the colourful sky were reflected in his eyes, much like the foamy waves ahead, which were tinged a deep orange. 

Beaches were an entirely different place during sunset,TJ couldn’t help but think, and brown eyes were an entirely different thing to witness. 

“It’s golden hour!” exclaimed Cyrus, reaching into the pocket of his jeans, “you know what that means, right?” 

TJ blinked himself out of his brief daze. “Um...photos?” 

“Yes. But let’s go down to the beach first, come on!”

Before he knew it, TJ found himself being tugged along a sandy set of concrete stairs, letting out a surprised laugh in the process. Cyrus came to a halt only once they’d reached the sand. Beside them, rolling waves crashed onto shore, only to ebb away again, and the sound it produced filled TJ’s ears in a way that was reminiscent of the L.A. traffic just 40 minutes away. The difference being, of course, that the sound of crashing ocean waves was infinitely more pleasant. 

“Okay! Stand still, I’ll take a photo,” said Cyrus, and TJ let out a small noise of complaint. 

“I thought we were both gonna be in this,” he protested, but Cyrus just shook his head, a wide smile spread across his face.

“I need a few of you. Now smile! Think of my eyes or something.” 

TJ gasped at that, laughing out of shock more than anything, and Cyrus snapped the photo. 

“I think I’ve taken you up a few too many pegs,” he declared, as he posed for another photo, and Cyrus’ smile took a mischevious edge. 

“It’s not my fault you can’t resist them. Smile!” 

TJ, albeit begrudgingly, smiled for a few more photos. As he walked over to Cyrus, cool ocean air gusting by him, he could’ve sworn a few more photos were snapped. 

“Now, seeing as turnabout is fair play,” TJ began, playfully taking Cyrus’ phone from him, “I get to take a few photos of you.” 

Cyrus looked for a moment as though he was going to protest, but he relented with a fond eye-roll and stepped back, taking the spot in front of the ocean that TJ had occupied previously. Initially his smile didn’t seem to reach his eyes, which had TJ frowning slightly. 

“Hey, Cy! Can I tell you something?” 

Cyrus seemed slightly puzzled at that, but he gave a quick nod anyway. 

“You’re like, really beautiful.” 

It worked almost like a charm — Cyrus’ smile immediately melted into something more genuine, something that had TJ smiling along with him as he took the photo. 

“Did you only say that for the photo?” he accused as TJ handed the phone back.

“Nope,” he replied, without hesitating. “You really are.” 

Cyrus tipped his head to the side at that, a pleased smile reappearing on his face. Then, he was standing up on his tip-toes and bringing their lips together. TJ responded almost instantly, drawing him in, and when they pulled away he felt for a moment as though he was floating. 

“We should get ice cream,” he breathed out.

Amusement flickered over Cyrus’ face. “Yeah. We should.” 

Business had slowed significantly for the ice cream store that sat just a few minutes away from the beach. TJ and Cyrus appeared to be the last to leave, ice cream cones in hand, accompanied only by a few teenagers.

Somewhere along their mindless wandering, chattering and ice cream-eating, Cyrus came to an abrupt stop, pulling his phone from his pocket. The sky had well and truly darkened by now, and the ocean beside them resembled a deep blue abyss. 

“Hang on! I have to find this article,” he insisted.

TJ just gave a somewhat confused smile, watching as Cyrus tapped through the various tabs he had open.

“Okay, okay...oh, here it is!” he said, cleared his throat, “Netflix-star TJ Kippen, who you may recognise from his bad-boy role in romance film ‘You and I’, is no stranger to the spotlight. In fact, he’s starring alongside costar Cyrus Goodman in the upcoming blockbuster film ‘Down To Ashes’, which has already garnered a large amount of hype in the previous months. This Saturday obviously wasn’t the star’s day however, as he was caught on video losing it at paparazzi.” 

Cyrus was barely able to make it through the passage without laughing, and eventually TJ couldn’t help but laugh along too. 

“First of all — _bad boy?_ I’ve seen that movie and your character is like, the purest person in the world. All he does that is even _remotely_ bad boy is wear a leather jacket!” 

TJ gave him a playful nudge. “What was that? You’ve seen one of my movies?” 

“For _research_ _purposes_, obviously,” Cyrus defended, and TJ couldn’t help but think the flush on his face wasn’t entirely due to the cool evening breeze. 

“Oh, yeah totally. Research purposes! of course,” he said, nodding, and Cyrus just laughed. 

“Stop it! Let me continue. Anyways — they said you _lost it _at the paparazzi, but all you did was raise your voice slightly. And it was over in like, a few seconds!” 

TJ hummed, wrapping an arm around Cyrus and playfully drawing him in. “I would’ve swore a lot more at him if you hadn’t of stopped me.”

Cyrus huffed. “You still did. But I wouldn’t consider that ‘losing it.’“ 

“True. Also, _Netflix-star?_ I’ve been in movies apart from Netflix ones! I’m offended that’s how people see me.” 

“I mean...that’s how I used to you. The Netflix romance boy,” Cyrus confessed, a small smile tugging at his lips, and TJ feigned a gasp.

“The _what?_” 

“The Netflix romance boy,” he repeated, louder this time.

TJ paused for a moment, his gaze locked with Cyrus’. Then, he was moving forward and swooping Cyrus off his feet, smiling at the surprised laughter that escaped him. 

“Sorry!” he said, in a way that couldn’t have sounded less apologetic, “I have to keep the brand going. Seeing as I’m the...what was it?”

“Theo!” Cyrus spluttered, arms coming up to wrap loosely around his neck, “this is only romantic in _movies_.” 

“Oh, it is? Well that’s a shame. Is there anything I can do to make it more romantic, then?” 

Cyrus’ laughter died down slightly at that. His eyes darted down to TJ’s lips, as if it were an automatic response to hearing those words. 

“There is,” he murmured. 

TJ smiled at that, craning his neck ever so slightly to connect their lips.

~

_October 7th, 2019 _

TJ knew well enough of Marty’s, and even _Amber’s_ skating abilities. Or — lack of thereof. Nonetheless, they always seemed to agree to come rollerskating when he suggested it, and that Monday found the trio approaching the same roller skating rink he and Cyrus had visited. 

It’d been an hour or so since he’d gotten off set, and the sun was well and truly starting to set. Families were beginning to flood out, replaced instead by groups of teenagers and younger adults. There were neon lights everywhere, illuminating the space where TJ, Marty and Amber walked. 

“You ready to fall on your face?” he asked Marty, which earnt him a death glare.

“Quit bragging, Kippen,” he shot back.

“Where was I bragging?! We all know your luck when it comes to skating, _Stevens._” 

“Well, maybe I have better things to do with my time than skate, _Kippen_.” 

“Well maybe—“ TJ began, but Amber cut him off, giving the pair an eye-roll. 

“Stop being embarrassing, you two. We all know that I’m gonna be the best here.” 

TJ scoffed at that, but he chose not to respond. 

As he scanned the rinks, he came to the realisation that it probably would’ve been better for him and Cyrus to visit in the evening rather than at midday. For one, he could actually _see_ the hardwood floor beneath the skaters that were gliding across it. 

_Maybe that could be their next date. _

The mere thought of their date had giddiness rising up inside of him. For a moment he almost wished he could be magically transported back to that beach, with Cyrus there, and that overwhelming feeling that had underlied it all, that _everything was okay._ The image of Cyrus’ smile during golden hour, and the way his eyes had been illuminated by the setting sun, brought a smile to TJ’s lips that he couldn’t control even if he tried. 

“What’s so funny?” asked Amber as they approached the front counter, and TJ was snapped out of his routine Cyrus-induced daze. 

“Uh, nothing,” he said, but he knew well enough. Amber did too apparently, from the smirk that had appeared on her face. 

“Oh? I didn’t realise Cyrus changed his name to—“ 

“What size shoes do you two slowpokes wear, again?” came Marty’s voice from in front of them, and TJ gave Amber a playful shove as he passed her, walking forward to stand beside him. 

After obtaining a pair of skates for all of them (this quickly became a task because Amber couldn’t seem to remember her shoe size, and had to go through various pairs), the trio made their way over to one of the rinks. 

“Is there a reason you’re clinging onto that wall, Marty? It doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that you’re gonna fall, right?” TJ asked as he glided past, and even Amber couldn’t help but snort.

“Have I mentioned that I hate you?” 

“Once or twice,” TJ returned, as he circled back around to him and offered a hand. Marty took it, albeit rather reluctantly, and TJ slowly led them towards the centre of the rink. 

“That’s right — one foot then the other,” he encouraged, because although Marty falling would certainly be funny, he didn’t necessarily want him getting hurt in any way. 

Eventually, with some teasing from Amber as she passed, Marty was able to fall into a rhythm of gliding, lifting one foot then the other. His face lit up with an excited smile when he realised that he was skating alone, with a few feet separating him from TJ.

“See? I’m a natural athlete,” he bragged, and TJ just rolled his eyes. 

“If you’re such an athlete, how about a race to the other end?”

“There is no way in _hell_ I’m doing that.” 

“I’ll race you, Teej!” Amber piped up, and TJ very nearly lost his balance as the girl glided by, gently knocking his shoulder in the process. She seemed to have miraculously remembered a thing or two from when they used to skate as children. 

“You’re a cheater!” he called out, before racing forward, trying hard to build up some speed. It wasn’t much use — Amber was at the opposite wall long before he was, and she didn’t shy away from bragging about it. 

This went on for some time, until Marty must’ve noticed someone he knew right by the rink, because he made his way over with a laugh and began chatting animatedly with him. TJ and Amber exchanged a glance as they made their way over to one of the walls, deciding through facial expressions alone that they should probably leave the pair be. 

“I forgot how tiring this was,” she said with a sigh. 

The neon lights that surrounded them illuminated her face in bursts, and from that alone TJ could see her face was tinged red. His face likely wasn’t much different. 

“Yeah. Did we have more energy as kids, or what?” 

“Maybe, but he also had a _bunch_ of soda.” 

“Fair point.” 

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Amber’s phone sounded in her pocket, and she let out a heavy sigh as she read over the notification. 

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, but does dad wanna talk to you or something? He’s been bugging me non-stop about getting you to reply to him.” 

TJ felt as though his stomach had been dropped off the peak of a tall building. It took a few beats of opening and closing his mouth before he could muster up a response.

“Uh. I...think he does. But, I don’t really wanna talk to him, so...” 

He’d pushed his dad’s text to the very back of his mind over the past few weeks — he knew avoidance wasn’t exactly helpful, but the mere _thought_ of dealing with it set panic alight inside of him. 

“...Can I ask why?” 

TJ swallowed. Every word he spoke after that felt like an effort. 

“I think — no, I _know_, he knows I’m gay. And I don’t wanna see what shit he’s sent me because I know it’s going to be stupid.” 

Amber’s expression softened. “Wanna find a table out there?” she asked, gesturing to the seating area beside them. 

All he could bring himself to do was nod. 

Marty gave them a smile and a thumbs-up as they passed, but TJ had never been particularly good at concealing his emotions, and he didn’t miss the flicker of concern that was present there either.

The chairs were plastic and somewhat flimsy-looking, placed on either side of various black tables. The café that was attached to the main building had long been closed. 

“So, what makes you think he knows?” asked Amber as she settled down opposite him. 

TJ let out a sigh. “He sent me a text with a link to an article about Cyrus and I.” 

“Okay...well, he might not believe it, right?” 

He gave her a disbelieving look. “Yeah, because dad totally isn’t one to jump to conclusions or anything.” 

Amber looked as though she wanted to protest for a moment, but decided against it. 

“Yeah...you’re right,” she relented. “Do you know what you’re gonna do?” 

“I guess I have to come out to him.” 

“I mean, you don’t _have_ to do anything.” 

“Amber...” he smiled slightly, taking both of her hands in his, “I agreed to play a gay character in a movie. I knew he’d find out eventually, and honestly...I kind of wanted him to.” 

“Well yeah, but _actually_ coming out to him is a whole other story,” she argued, “you know how he is. You know how he’ll be.” 

“I’m tired of playing a role when I’m around him, though. I wanna save the acting for like...actual movies, you know? He’s already suspicious I don’t have a girlfriend yet. I’m sure he knows deep down even if he doesn’t wanna admit it.”

A sad smile came to Amber’s lips. She hesitated for a moment, looking down at where TJ was still holding onto her hands.

“You think you’re ready for him to know?” 

“Yeah,” said TJ after a moment’s delay, and although his voice was somewhat shaky, he really _did_ mean it. 

“Okay.” Amber took a deep breath. “Do you need help drafting a text or something?” 

“Yeah...but when we get home,” he decided, to which Amber gave a nod. 

Another brief silence fell between them. TJ pulled his hands away, feeling somewhat more at ease than he had previously. It was as though a tension he hadn’t even realised was there had somehow been lifted from his shoulders, if only slightly.

“Do you ever wished we lived somewhere like L.A.?” Amber asked suddenly. 

TJ blinked at that, feeling somewhat taken aback.

“...Sometimes,” he confessed, “it’d be a lot easier to get roles. And I just...feel happier here, I guess. I’m not really sure how to explain it.” 

Amber looked pensive for a moment, as though she was considering the words carefully. 

“Yeah. I guess I’ve just...kind of been struggling in Shadyside. I applied for some make-up jobs but there’s only so many, and a few of them have rejected me already,” she said, and from the way she had begun fidgeting, TJ could tell this must’ve been something that was bothering her. Amber was rarely one to fidget, and if she did, it was usually because she was particularly stressed out. 

“It’s a small town,” he agreed, “and it’s hard with jobs...has anyone accepted you?” 

“Not yet. And I’m worried.” 

TJ nodded, trying his best to muster a comforting smile. “I’m sure someone will. And if they don’t...we’ll go from there. Maybe we could...”he bit his lip, feeling as though he would be getting too far ahead of himself. 

Amber looked curious, but she didn’t urge him to continue. She just gave him a smile in return and leaned over the table, wrapping him up in a quick hug. 

“Hey, guys! What’d I miss?” asked Marty, waltzing up to their table and taking the seat beside TJ. 

They exchanged a glance at that, before returning their gazes to Marty. 

“Nothing,” TJ settled on saying, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Now — how do we feel about milkshakes?” 

Marty still looked sceptical, but he seemed to sense that neither of them were willing to talk. 

“I feel great about milkshakes!” Amber exclaimed, clapping her hands together and getting to her feet. 

Marty looked between them for a moment, before shrugging and standing up. “What kind of monster would say no to milkshakes?” 

“Come on now, vegan and lactose intolerant people exist, Marty,” said TJ, as they made their way towards the front counter. 

“Well so do dairy-free milkshakes!” he defended, and TJ couldn’t help but laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it, I hope this chapter was at least somewhat worth the wait!
> 
> Kudos/comments are appreciated as always if you liked it <3

**Author's Note:**

> Quick sidenote: this prologue is short, but the chapters will hopefully be around 4k words in length, sometimes more because...it's me, let's be real. This also had a darker tone to it because it's from Cyrus' past, but the chapters themselves will be a bit lighter.
> 
> Kudos/comments are appreciated if you're interested so far!! <3


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